HARLES; 


ill!  nil II I  m 


BOOKS  BY  PRESIDENT  THWING 
ON  COLLEGE  SUBJECTS 

American  Colleges :  Their  Students  and  Work 

Within  College  Walls 

The  College  Woman 

The  American  College  in  American  Life 

College  Administration 

The  Choice  of  a  College 

If  I  Were  a  College  Student 

A  Libera!  Education  and  a  Liberal  Faith 

College  Training  and  the  Business  Man 

Higher  Education  in  America:  a  History 

Education  in  the  Far  East 

History  of  Education  in  the  United  States  since  the 
Civil  War 

Universities  of  the  World 

Letters  from  a  Father  to  His  Son  Entering  College 
Letters   from  a  Father  to  His  Daughter  Entering 
College 

The  Co-ordinate  System  of  the  Higher  Education 
The  American  College :  What  it  is  and  what  it  may 
become. 

Education  According  to  Some  Modern  Masters. 
The  Ministry:  An  Appeal  to  College  Men 
The  Training  of  Men  for  the  World's  Future 


THE 
COLLEGE  GATEWAY 


BY 

CHARLES  FRANKLYN  THWING 

D.D.,  LL.D.,  LITT.  D. 

President  of  Western  Reserve 
University 


Second  Series  of  Baccalaureate  Discourses 


THE    PILGRIM  PRESS 

BOSTON  CHICAGO 


Copyright  1918 
By  CHARLES  F.  THWING 


THE   PILGRIM   PRESS 

BOSTON 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

In  the  year  1903,  I  published  "  A  Liberal 
Education  and  a  Liberal  Faith,"  a  volume  of 
Baccalaureate  addresses  given  from  1891  to 
that  time.  The  present  volume  includes  the 
addresses  given  between  1903  and  1918. 

To  the  students  with  whom  I  have  lived 
and  worked  and  played  these  many  years, 
and  who  first  heard  these  addresses  at  their 
Commencement,  I  dedicate  this  new  volume. 
Without,  as  well  as  within,  college  walls, 
may  they  find  that  their  highest  aspirations 
are,  through  daily  experience,  becoming  solid 
convictions. 

C.  F.  T. 

Western  Reserve  University,  Cleveland 


?;  i-5  v7  *f  ^  fj 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Prefatory  Note  v 

I    Trustees  for  Humanity 3 

II    Entering  into  Life 25 

III  Sympathy  the  Solution  of  the  Social 

Problem     45 

IV  Some  Rewards  of  a  College  Training    63 
V    The  Needs  of  American  Life  which  the 

College  and  the  College  Graduate 
SHOULD  Fill 81 

VI    Being  Rich  Without  Riches 101 

VII    The  American  College  Student  and  the 

Universities  of  the  World     .    .    .    .125 
VIII     The  Four-Square  Man 135 

IX    Public  Disorder  and  the  Higher  Educa- 
tion   151 

X    The  Interpretation  of  Life 171 

XI    College  Life  a  Prophecy  of  Life  Itself    187 
XII    The  Greatness  and  Simplicity  of  Re- 
ligion    205 

XIII    The  Looking  Backward  of  Character 

AND  OF  Achievement 221 

XIV    The  Responsibility  of  the  Individual 

'^'   |j  -^;^  FOR   THE    COMMUNITY 239 

^|XV    Effects  of  the  War  on  College  Women    261 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/collegegatewayOOthwirich 


I 

TRUSTEES  FOR  HUMANITY 


•  •    • 

•••  • 

•      •  • 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

Chapter  I 

TRUSTEES  FOR  HUMANITY 
[1904] 

"  We  were  allowed  of  God  to  be  put  in  trust  with  the 
gospel." —  1  Thessalonians  ii  :  4. 

THE  word  gospel  may  be  interpreted  in  a 
way  either  narrow  or  broad.  It  may 
be  made  to  refer  to  the  good  news  of  a 
special  and  signal  revelation;  it  may  be  ap- 
plied to  the  incarnation  of  Christ,  to  the  words 
which  Christ  spoke,  to  the  works  which  he  did. 
The  gospels  represent  the  Gospel.  This  mean- 
ing is  clear,  definite,  narrow.  The  word  may 
also  be  used  in  a  sense  broad  and  no  less  clear. 
It  may  be  made  to  refer  to  the  whole  cosmic 
process  which  moves  from  God  manward,  and 
from  man  Godward.  It  includes  both  the 
heart  of  the  Eternal  declaring  itself  in  time, 
and  the  mind  of  Omniscience  striving  for  hu- 
man betterment.     It  stands  for  the  truth  of  the 

[3] 


'     '  THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

creation  —  that  it  is  good,  and  also  for  the 
promise  that  there  shall  be  no  night  and  no 
more  sea,  neither  sorrow  nor  crying.  It  repre- 
sents the  fact  of  the  lamb  slain  from  the  foun- 
dation of  the  world,  and  also  embraces  the 
manifestation  of  the  lamb  on  Calvary.  The 
Gospel  as  a  force  in  this  sense  stands  for  love, 
for  love  as  broad  as  man's  need  and  as  full  as 
God's  power.  The  Gospel  is  a  realm  as  wide 
as  humanity.  The  Gospel  as  grace  is  favor, 
forgiveness,  help,  limitless  in  time  and  space. 
The  Gospel  as  doctrine  is  teaching  to  be  inter- 
preted, known,  accepted  by  all.  The  Gospel 
on  the  human  side  is  the  soul's  re-birth,  the 
soul's  growth,  the  soul's  re-making,  the  soul's 
righteousness,  the  soul's  optimism.  The  Gos- 
pel on  the  divine  side  is  God's  passion,  God's 
leading  and  lifting,  God's  furtherance  of  human 
well-being.  The  Gospel  is  truth  to  be  known, 
justice  to  be  declared,  right  to  be  done,  duty 
to  be  accepted,  love  to  be  given  and  received. 
Of  such  a  gospel  prophets  have  prophesied, 
poets  sung,  apostles  preached,  and  for  such  a 
gospel  have  the  glorious  army  of  the  martyrs 
died. 

These  two  interpretations,  the  one  narrow, 
the  one  broad,  are  yet  not  antagonistic.  They 
supplement  each  other.     The  lamb  that  was 

[4] 


TRUSTEES  FOR  HUMANITY 

slain  on  Calvary  was  slain  from  the  foundation 
of  the  world.  The  Gospel  preached  by  Christ 
and  his  apostles  is  the  gospel  of  the  good  news 
of  righteousness,  of  truth  and  of  duty,  declared 
by  every  prophet  from  the  beginning  until  now. 
The  beatitudes  of  the  Fifth  of  Matthew  are  the 
expression  of  eternal  principles  of  righteousness, 
of  pity,  of  love  and  of  purity.  The  whole 
Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  a  declaration  of  love 
and  of  justice,  as  eternal  as  time  and  as  wide 
in  application  as  human  need.  The  forces 
for  human  betterment,  embodied  in  and  de- 
clared by  the  Christ,  preached  by  apostles, 
embodied  in  holy  writings,  are  the  very  same 
forces  which  are  regnant  in  history  and 
dominant  in  human  affairs. 

Of  such  a  gospel,  broad,  high,  profound, 
man  is  put  in  trust.  Of  such  a  gospel,  broad, 
high,  profound,  the  college  graduate  is  put  in 
trust  in  a  special  significance. 

For  the  Gospel  is  a  body  of  truth  and  of 
truths.  These  truths  are  the  most  profound; 
they  concern  the  divine  plan,  purpose  and 
method.  They  are  as  eternal  as  eternity,  as 
broad  as  space,  as  complex  as  nature's  forces. 
They  bear  relations  to  each  other.  Some  of 
these  truths  are  primary,  some  subordinate; 
some  causes,   some  results.     Some  find  their 

[S] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

chief  support  in  the  Bible,  and  their  secondary 
in  the  human  reason;  some  find  their  chief 
support  in  the  human  reason,  and  their 
secondary  in  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Some  are 
axiomatic,  and  others  represent  long  processes 
of  reasoning.  Some  are  inductive,  and  some 
deductive.  The  Gospel,  therefore,  is  a  body 
of  reason  and  truth.  As  such,  it  is  specially 
committed  to  the  reasoning  mind.  I  am  not 
saying  that  the  Gospel  is  not  a  gift,  a  message 
that  the  wayfaring  man  may  understand  and 
accept.  But  I  am  saying  that  the  Gospel  is, 
in  certain  relations,  a  philosophy,  and  that  the 
Gospel  as  a  philosophy  is  specially  committed 
to  the  college  graduate.  For  he  is  the  man  of 
reason.  His  is  the  mind,  if  any  mind  may  be 
said  to  be  broad,  which  is  comprehensive.  It 
brings  together  the  widely  distributed  parts  of 
knowledge  and  unites  them  into  a  consistent 
principle.  His  is  the  mind,  if  any  mind  can 
at  all  appreciate,  which  is  able  to  assess  each 
fact  at  a  proper  value,  to  put  the  subordinate 
as  subordinate  and  the  primary  as  primary. 
His  is  the  mind,  if  any  mind  be  at  all  able, 
which  is  able  to  see  clearly,  to  reason  logically, 
to  infer  correctly.  His  is  the  mind,  if  any 
mind  be  at  all  qualified,  which  is  to  detect  the 
sophistical,  to  unravel  the  complex,  to  recog- 

[6] 


TRUSTEES  FOR  HUMANITY 

nize  its  own  limitations,  to  distinguish  the 
essential  from  the  arbitrary,  to  point  out  the 
way  of  truth. 

In  this  age  there  is  special  need  of  inter- 
preting the  gospel  as  truth.  In  this  age  there 
is  special  need  of  receiving  the  gospel  as  a 
message  addressed  to  the  reason  as  well  as  to 
the  heart,  as  a  declaration  made  through  the 
reason  to  the  conscience  and  to  the  will.  The 
gospel  is,  on  one  side,  in  peril  of  becoming 
what  I  may  call  a  manual  training.  In  this 
condition  the  impulse  for  service  is  in  danger 
of  becoming  as  irrational  as  it  is  enthusiastic 
and  well-intentioned.  The  gospel  of  service 
is  of  course  good,  glorious.  Be  ye  doers  of  the 
word,  and  not  hearers  only.  But  if  such  a 
gospel  of  service  have  only  heart,  it  is  a  gos- 
pel dissipating,  disintegrating.  It  is  like  the 
steamer  having  boiler  and  engines,  but  rudder- 
less; it  is  destructive  to  itself  and  to  others. 
On  the  other  side  the  gospel  is  in  peril  of  again 
becoming  a  form  of  mysticism.  In  mysticism 
the  will  loses  itself  in  the  contemplation  of  the 
eternal  and  the  infinite.  Modern  mysticism 
takes  on  the  name  known  as  Christian  Science. 
Mysticism  has  its  place.  Christian  Science  has 
its  place.  It  is  a  half-truth,  or  a  quarter- 
truth.     But  if  mysticism  be  not  founded  on 

[7] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

reason  —  and  the  peril  is  that  mysticism  will 
not  be  founded  on  reason — its  place  is  small 
in  the  world  of  thought  and  reality.  It  be- 
comes a  cloud,  which,  even  if  filled  by  the 
glories  of  unseen  suns,  is  only  an  object  of 
aesthetic  and  ascetic  delight,  coming  no  one 
knows  whence,  leading  no  one  knows  whither. 
The  body  of  truth  and  of  truths  which  are 
presented  in  the  gospel  are  neither  primarily  a 
workshop  nor  a  cloudy  palace.  But  they  do 
represent  a  temple  of  worship,  of  revelation, 
and  of  reason.  In  such  a  temple  the  college 
graduate  is  the  most  fitting  dweller. 

The  gospel,  too,  represents  a  person,  as  well 
as  a  truth.  As  such,  therefore,  the  college 
graduate  becomes  a  special  trustee  of  it.  The 
first  chapter  of  Genesis  and  the  first  chapter 
of  John's  gospel  bear  the  same  revelation  — 
"  In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heaven  and 
the  earth.  .  .  .  And  God  said.  Let  there  be 
light:  and  there  was  light."  "  In  the  be- 
ginning was  the  Word,  and  the  Word  was  with 
God,  and  the  Word  was  God.  ...  In  him  was 
life;  and  the  life  was  the  light  of  men."  I 
care  not  what  name  is  given  to  Him  whom  we 
call  God.  You  may  call  him  Jehovah,  the 
Eternal,  the  First  Cause,  the  Word,  the  Spirit. 
I  am  not  preaching  a  sermon  on  the  trinity, 

[8] 


TRUSTEES  FOR  HUMANITY 

But  by  whatever  name  He  is  called,  He  is 
behind  all,  in  all,  through  all,  a  person. 

For  the  presentation  and  representation  of 
such  a  person,  unworthy  as  the  presentation 
may  be,  the  worthy  person  is  essential  and 
necessary.  Personality  alone  represents  per- 
sonality. What,  therefore,  let  me  ask,  is  the 
college  for  —  but  for  the  training  of  large 
personality?  A  personality  in  which  are  em- 
bodied at  once  the  verities  and  the  graces, 
the  disciplines  and  the  enrichments,  the 
sanctities  and  the  duties  of  life.  Yet  how  de- 
fective is  the  result,  how  imperfect  the  realiza- 
tion of  the  ideal.  At  times,  how  low  the  ideal 
itself!  But,  above  all  other  conditions,  does 
not  the  college  represent  the  most  potent  force 
and  the  richest  condition  for  making  character 
reasonable,  moral,  and  strong?  Does  it  not, 
above  every  other  force,  unite  the  contradic- 
tories, giving  purity  without  Pharisaism,  lofti- 
ness of  aim  without  unreasoning  ambition, 
compassion  without  softness,  beauty  free  from 
self-consciousness,  and  the  manhood  which 
creates  manliness  and  the  womanhood  which 
creates  womanliness?  Such  a  character,  so 
disciplined  and  enriched,  is  the  best  qualified  to 
interpret,  to  declare  the  Supreme  Person  of  the 
universe  to  the  world.    Humanity,  as  it  is  seen 

[9] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

and  setjforth  by  the  college,  is  best  fitted  to 
express  divinity  to  men. 

In  the  administration  of  this  trusteeship  of 
the  gospel  by  college  people,  the  gospel  is  to 
be  applied  to  several  great  conditions  of  our 
life  in  America. 

One  of  these  conditions  to  which  the  trustee- 
ship of  the  gospel  is  to  be  applied  is  the  subject 
known  as  labor  and  capital.  This  condition 
is  most  serious.  Two  elements  necessary  for 
the  producing  of  results  of  primary  value  to  the 
community  are  in  constant  or  periodic  antag- 
onism. If  they  are  not  warring  foes  they  are, 
on  their  very  best  terms,  armed  neutrals. 
Capital  is  inclined  to  estimate  labor  as  more 
important  than  the  laborer.  Methods  are  of 
slight  worth  provided  results  are  satisfactory. 
Capital  at  times  seems  to  give  ground  for  the 
judgment  that  nothing  is  so  cheap  as  human 
hands,  and  no  supply  so  certain,  or  so  large,  as 
human  life. 

On  the  other  hand  the  laborer  is  inclined  to 
be  jealous  of  the  capitalist.  He  feels  that 
labor  is  not  getting  its  full  increment  of  the 
increasing  forces  of  civilization.  He  feels 
himself  often  opposed,  cajoled,  played  with, 
fooled.  He  easily  becomes  an  anarchist.  He 
sees  law-breaking  at  the  top,  and  he  at  the 

[10] 


TRUSTEES  FOR  HUMANITY 

bottom  defies  the  law.  Sullen,  gloomy,  re- 
vengeful, he  often  is.  The  Labor  Union  he 
uses  as  a  mighty  engine  of  democracy,  both 
against  the  capitalist  and  his  brother  work- 
man. He  often  uses  it  as  a  means  of  serving 
one  through  all,  and  also  of  serving  many 
through  one.  The  Union  is  at  once  a  democ- 
racy and  a  monarchy,  —  a  monarchical  de- 
mocracy and  a  democratic  monarchy.  It  is 
the  most  important  tool  of  modern  industry 
and  of  modern  life. 

The  first  element  in  the  adjustment  of  the 
rights  and  duties  of  capital  and  labor  is  the 
understanding  of  the  rights  and  duties  of  both 
capital  and  labor.  Each  has  rights,  each  has 
duties.  Each  is  inclined  to  see  and  to  insist 
upon  its  rights,  and  each  is  inclined  to  be 
blind  to,  or  to  shirk,  its  duties.  Each  side 
is,  on  the  whole,  narrow.  Its  narrowness 
arises  from  what  it  esteems  its  duty  of  self- 
preservation.  A  board  of  directors  declares, 
"  We  must  protect  this  property,  we  are  the 
trustees  of  our  stockholders;  we  must  earn 
dividends;  if  we  do  not  protect  and  earn, 
suffering  results."  The  statement  is  true. 
A  labor  union  or  council  declares,  "  This  work 
is  worth  more  than  is  paid  for  it;  if  we  fail 
to    get  proper  pay,  we  shall  strike! "      Each 

[11] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

statement  is  true,  the  logic  logical.  The 
capitalist  and  laborer  are  both  right,  and  both 
wrong,  in  many  matters,  in  most  strained 
conditions.  But  each  is  inclined  to  be  per- 
sonal in  his  interpretations,  partisan  in  his 
conception  of  duties,  narrow  in  his  ideas  of 
rights. 

In  this  condition  the  chief  purpose,  the  only 
method  to  be  pursued  is  the  making  of  both 
the  laborer  and  the  capitalist  larger  men. 
The  method  to  be  pursued  is  the  method  of 
education;  it  is  the  method  of  altruism.  It  is 
the  method  of  putting  oneself  in  the  other 
man's  place.  It  is  the  method  of  altruism, 
the  method  of  helping  the  other  man  to  get 
into  one's  own  place.  We  shall  reach  no  per- 
manent method  of  settlement  of  the  labor 
question  until  we  have  helped  all  men  into  a 
thinking  broader,  larger,  into  a  feeling  more 
vital,  into  a  sympathy  more  tender  and 
appreciative. 

For  securing  such  a  result  the  college  grad- 
uate stands  as  a  most  helpful  force.  What 
does  education  mean  unless  it  means  breadth? 
What  does  education  mean  unless  it  means  a 
mighty  sense  of  appreciation?  For  what  are 
the  favorite  emblems  on  the  shields  of  our 
colleges?     Are  they  not  a  rising  sun,  a  lighted 

[12] 


TRUSTEES  FOR  HUMANITY 

lamp?  What  are  the  favorite  words  embossed 
on  these  shields?  Are  they  not  "Veritas," 
"  Lux  "  ?  Light  for  all,  light  for  each;  breadth 
for  all,  breadth  for  each!  Prejudice,  partiality, 
partisanship  are  not  to  be  suffered. 

It  is  not  for  me,  now  and  here,  to  set  forth 
the  special  methods  by  which  you  shall  show 
your  breadth.  Of  course  you  are  not  to  stand 
before  the  world  and  say,  "  I  am  broad-minded; 
I  am  called  to  settle  the  disputes  of  labor 
and  capital!  "  You  are  not  to  be  a  strike- 
breaker or  a  boycott-adjuster.  You  are  to 
go  about  your  business.  But  in  going  about 
your  business  you  will  have  ample  opportunity 
for  using  your  largeness.  The  by-products  of 
your  breadth  may  be  worth  more  than  its 
direct  results.  You  are,  above  all  people  of 
the  community,  to  have  that  largeness  of 
mind,  that  bigness  of  heart,  which  will  do  more 
than  all  else  to  settle  immediate,  present  and 
local  difficulties.  You  are  to  give  to  all  men 
that  same  largeness  and  bigness  which,  when 
they  have  become  a  part  of  humanity,  will 
render  labor  difficulties  impossible. 

To  a  second  question  in  our  American  life 
are  you  college  people  to  apply  the  trusteeship 
of  the  gospel.  The  labor  question  touches  all 
parts  of  the  land,  all  orders  of  society.     The 

[13] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

second  question  to  which  I  refer  is  immediately 
a  problem  of  the  South.  It  is  the  question  of 
the  civil,  social,  industrial  condition  of  the 
colored  race.  This  government  is  a  republic. 
It  is  a  republic  based  upon  equality  of  personal 
rights.  I  suppose  that  no  one  denies  that  in 
certain  states  laws  are  passed  which  do  result 
in  the  denial  of  civil  rights.  I  suppose  also 
it  is  recognized  that  the  industrial  field  for  the 
colored  man  is,  on  the  whole,  becoming  more 
confined.  I  suppose  in  many  parts  the  feeling 
is  in  favor  of  a  restriction  of  the  social  privileges 
of  the  colored  race.  The  whole  condition  is 
unique  in  the  history  of  the  world.  A  race,  as 
a  race,  inferior  in  power,  of  ten  millions,  domi- 
ciled in  a  republic  of  sixty  other  millions, — 
it  is  a  problem  of  tremendous  proportions, 
complex  in  historic  relations  and  elements, 
fraught  with  endless,  some  would  say  frightful, 
responsibilities.  But  such  a  problem  is  a 
problem,  first  of  all,  for  the  reason.  First  of 
all  it  is  a  problem  to  be  analyzed,  each  element 
drawn  out  fully,  each  element  related  to  every 
other  element.  The  problem  is  first  to  be 
stated  in  terms  of  the  reason;  it  is  to  be  dis- 
cussed in  terms  of  the  reason;  it  is  to  be  solved 
in  terms¥of^the^reason.  One  of  the  most 
forbiddingj[elements|inIthe  whole  problem  is 

[14] 


TRUSTEES  FOR  HUMANITY 

that  some  people  are  found  who  are  either 
unable  or  unwilling  to  state,  or  to  discuss,  or 
to  treat,  or  to  try  to  solve,  the  problem  in  terms 
of  the  reason.  Therefore,  because  this  ques- 
tion is  a  question  for  the  reason,  it  is  a  question 
making  a  special  appeal  to  college  folk.  Its 
historic  relations,  its  racial  condition,  its  civil 
and  civic  elements,  its  industrial  and  social 
affiliations,  form  a  question  which  summons 
the  largest  knowledge,  the  profoundest  re- 
flection, the  keenest  insight,  and  the  most 
accurate  discrimination. 

Of  course,  in  the  solution  of  this  problem 
the  heart  of  love  has  its  place,  and  the  con- 
science of  justice  has  also  its  place.  If  the 
heart  of  love  or  the  conscience  of  justice  fail 
to  secure  their  rights  in  its  solution,  then  the 
problem  becomes  yet  more  difficult,  difficult 
as  it  is.  But  if  this  force  cannot  be  relied  upon 
for  the  solution,  the  greater  is  the  duty  placed 
upon  the  reason  for  the  proper  interpretation 
and  declaration  of  the  question.  The  proper 
interpretation  and  declaration  of  any  great 
human  problem  is  the  best  method  for  arous- 
ing the  conscience  to  righteousness  and  the 
heart  to  its  duty  of  love.  In  such  a  move- 
ment, therefore,  primarily  a  movement  of  and 
through  the  reason  for  the  betterment  of  a 

[15] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

race,  the  college  man  and  woman  of  the  well- 
trained  reason  must  have  a  great  and  significant 
part.  You  are  put  into  a  trusteeship  of  the 
gospel  for  the  benefit  of  men  and  of  any  race 
of   men. 

A  third  problem  of  our  time  to  which  should 
be  applied  the  trusteeship  of  the  gospel  by 
college  folk,  is  the  general  problem  of  the  giving 
to  civilization  increasing  depth  and  larger 
relationships.  For  we  sadly  know  that  our 
horizons  of  vision  are  not  broad,  nor  our  wells 
of  strength  and  of  refreshment  deep.  Too 
keenly  we  know  that  the  walls  of  the  temple  of 
our  civilization  are  pretty  thin.  Every  mob 
breaking  down  doors  of  jails,  shooting,  burn- 
ing wretches  who  still  are  human,  proves 
how  thin  is  the  crust  which  divides  subter- 
ranean fires  from  our  homes  and  our  lives. 
Soldiers  of  some  civilized  nations  put  into 
China  become  ravenous  beasts.  John  Morley, 
writing  of  the  social  and  personal  evils  attend- 
ing the  discussion  of  the  Irish  Bill  of  1868, 
says,  "  It  was  a  painful  demonstration  how 
thin,  after  all,  is  our  social  veneer  even  when 
most  highly  polished."  I  sometimes  fear  that 
forces  now  active  may  fling  themselves  on  the 
community  and  again  overthrow  civilization, 
as    it   was    overthrown    in    southern    Europe 

[16] 


TRUSTEES  FOR  HUMANITY 

fifteen  hundred  years  ago.  Neither  this 
nation,  nor  any  other  of  the  advancing 
peoples  of  the  world,  has  any  patent  right 
to  a  constant  progress  or  to  a  lasting  exis- 
tence. 

In  the  enriching  and  deepening  of  the  forces 
of  modern  civilization,  two  questions  arise  for 
special  notice.  One  question  is  the  decline 
of  the  respect  paid  to  the  formal  government 
and  to  the  chosen  members  of  it,  and  the 
corresponding  increase  to  the  informal  associa- 
tions of  society.  The  law-making  body  of  the 
nation,  of  the  state,  of  the  town,  stands  for  less 
than  it  did  a  generation  ago.  Congress, 
Legislature  and  City  Council  receive  less 
respect  today  than  they  received  in  the  days 
of  Garfield,  of  Sherman,  of  Sumner  and  of 
Dawes.  The  laws  and  statutes  are  less  ob- 
served, and  are  more  thoroughly  regarded  as 
not  worthy  of  observance.  The  respect  paid 
to  the  executive  and  judicial  part  of  the 
Commonwealth  may  not  have  suffered  serious 
decrease,  but  the  respect  paid  to  the  law- 
making body  has  vastly  diminished.  Man  has 
become  more,  the  state  less;  the  people  have 
waxed,  the  nation  waned.  But  with  this 
decline  has  occurred  an  increase  in  the  force 
of  the  associations  of  men  which  are  not  politi- 

[17] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

cal  or  governmental.  The  advancing  forces 
are  industrial,  financial,  commercial.  The 
Stock  Exchange  is  a  more  powerful  force  than 
the  Senate  Chamber.  The  Board  of  Directors 
of  certain  corporations  have  become  more  in- 
fluential than  the  President's  Cabinet.  The 
captains  of  industry  are  more  commanding 
leaders  than  Governors  of  Commonwealths. 
Some  would  say  that  the  captains  of  industry 
are  the  governors  of  Commonwealths,  and 
some  would  say  that  at  times  those  most  in- 
terested in  the  Stock  Exchange  do  sit  in  the 
seats  of  Congress.  The  influence  of  certain 
men  over  the  destiny  of  this  nation,  who  have 
no  office  and  no  desire  for  office,  approaches  in 
power,  some  might  say  exceeds  in  power,  the 
influence  of  the  President  for  the  United  States. 
I  have  sometimes  thought  that  a  great  cor- 
poration is  well  named  the  UNITED  STATES 
Steel  Corporation.  Such  a  figure  is  not  to  be 
interpreted  too  closely,  but  my  simple  conten- 
tion is  that  the  respect  paid  to  the  formal 
government  and  governors  has  weakened,  and 
the  respect  paid  to  the  informal  government 
and  governors  has  strengthened. 

A  second  change  is  passing  over  the  com- 
munity. Human  interest  is  passing  from 
theology  to  sociology.     Its  center  is  no  longer 

[18  1 


TRUSTEES  FOR  HUMANITY 

divinity,  but  humanity.  The  process  is  the 
reverse  of  the  Ptolemaic  and  Copernican 
transfer.  We  find  our  center,  not  in  an  out- 
side world,  but  in  man.  We  celebrate  Christ- 
mas, God  becoming  man  —  the  incarnation, 
rather  than  Easter,  man  becoming  the  divine. 
The  incarnation  of  God  in  man  is  more  im- 
portant than  the  spiritualizing  of  man  in  God. 
The  great  poems  are  no  longer  attempts  to 
justify  the  ways  of  God  to  man,  but  they  do 
attempt  to  justify  the  ways  of  man  to  man. 
We  build  few  cathedrals  for  worship,  we  build 
auditoriums  for  instruction,  social  and  college 
settlements.  Young  Men's  and  Young  Wo- 
men's Christian  Associations,  Lend-a-Hand 
Clubs,  Endeavor  Societies,  Leagues  for  Social 
Service,  these  and  many  other  forms  of  al- 
truism embody  the  present  tendency.  The 
divine  element  in  religion  is  minimized,  the 
human  magnified.  I  am  neither  opposing  nor 
approving  such  a  movement,  I  am  only  trying 
to  interpret  it.  The  change  is  one  of  the 
most  significant  and  fundamental  of  all  the 
changes  of  our  generation. 

These  two  movements,  the  movement  away 
from  the  formal  government  to  the  informal, 
from  the  divine  element  in  religion  to  the 
human,  are  illustrations  of  that  great  move- 

119] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

ment  of  human  society  which  one  of  the 
greatest  of  social  philosophers  has  described  as 
a  movement  from  status  to  contract.  The 
formal  government  and  religion  represent  the 
status  into  which  one  is  born,  a  condition  ap- 
proaching in  permanence  the  forces  of  nature. 
We  are  passing  over  into  the  life  in  which 
forces  are  to  be  arranged  and  covenants  to  be 
made.  Life  in  government  and  in  religion 
has  becopie  mobile.  Every  day  alters  con- 
ditions, every  day  offers  new  duties,  every 
hour  reveals  new  truth  and  new  work.  Each 
new  condition  leads  to  new  arrangements  of 
the  social  order  and  organism,  and  all  new 
arrangements  lead  to  new  conditions. 

In  such  changing  circumstances  and  forms 
the  college  graduate  has  laid  upon  himself 
peculiar  duties.  For  the  graduate  has  an 
intellectual  sense  of  relationships,  he  sees  and 
he  foresees.  He  is  to  be  at  once  just  and 
generous,  large-minded  and  large-hearted,  con- 
siderate and  enthusiastic.  He  is  to  adjust 
and  to  readjust,  in  the  changing  conditions 
of  his  universe,  the  stabilities  and  the  standards 
of  the  formal  government,  and  to  represent 
the  vital  and  energetic  forces  of  life.  He  is  to 
seek  to  show  that  law  lies  at  the  base  of  every 
state,    political,    civil,    social    and    industrial. 

[20] 


I 


TRUSTEES  FOR  HUMANITY 

He  is  not  to  forget  that  all  social  movements 
relate  themselves  to  Him  in  whom  we  live  and 
move  and  have  our  being.  He  is  to  have 
cognizance  of  the  great  tides  of  human  affairs, 
and  also  to  take  note  of  the  individual  waves 
which  rise,  break,  fall.  He  is  to  seek  to  make 
social  progress  religious,  religious  interpreta- 
tions human,  humane,  humanistic.  He  is,  by 
his  greatness  and  fineness,  to  make  civiliza- 
tion great  and  fine. 

To  the  Members  of  the  Classes  about  to 
Graduate: 

Into  your  hands  I  put  great  commissions. 
I  summon  you  to  serious  duties.  You  are  to 
live  in  the  most  critical  of  centuries,  among  the 
most  formative  of  peoples.  In  great  move- 
ments you  are  to  share,  in  great  undertakings 
you  are  to  have  a  part.  The  conditions  are  to 
demand  your  strongest  might,  your  largest 
endeavor,  your  keenest  wisdom,  your  most 
persistent  patience,  your  finest  enthusiasms. 
But  my  confidence  in  you  is  also  large.  Obli- 
gations never  exceed  abilities.  If  you  do 
all  that  you  are  able  to  do,  the  result  is 
well.  That  you  will  do  all  that  you  are 
able   to   do,    I   believe.     Go    forth,   then,    to 

[21] 


The  college  gateway 

transmute  learning  into  wisdom,  strength 
into  efficiency,  power  into  service.  Go  forth, 
then, 

"  To  be  forever  an  influence, 
A  memory,  a  goal,  a  high  example, 
A  thought  of  honor  in  some  noble  heart, 
Part  of  thy  country's  treasure  and  renown, — 
And  oft  give  courage  unto  souls  that  strive." 


[22] 


II 

ENTERING  INTO  LIFE 


Chapter  II 

ENTERING  INTO  LIFE 
[1905] 

"If  thou  wilt    enter  into    life,   keep   the   command- 
ments."—  Matthew  xix  :  17. 

THESE  words  form  one  of  the  most 
comprehensive  of  Christ's  remarks. 
The  sentence  represents  the  constitu- 
tion of  man.  If  you  would  live,  observe  the 
Commandments.  The  ten?  Yes,  the  ten. 
What  are  the  Commandments  of  which  the 
keeping  will  give  life?  What  is  the  compre- 
hensive interpretation  of  the  Ten  Command- 
ments ? 

The  first  commandment  refers  to  what  I 
may  call  idealism.  Idealism  is  a  god-likeness 
which  is  supreme,  of  which  no  image  can  be 
graven.  Idealism  is  conscientiousness  touched 
by  imagination.  I  refer  to  those  intellectual 
ideas  and  to  those  ethical  principles  which  are 
supreme  and  fundamental.  I  mean  the  belief 
in,  and  the  living  for,  what  the  outer  eye  sees 
not,  what  the  outer  ear  hears  not,  but  the 
belief  in,  and  the  living  for,  what  the  inner  eye, 

[25] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

the  inner  ear,  do  perceive  and  appreciate.  I 
have  in  mind  the  intimations  of  the  eternal, 
of  the  immortal,  which  Wordsworth  sets  forth 
in  the  great  Ode.  Conscientiousness  may  be 
slow,  painful,  plodding.  Imaginativeness  may- 
be airy,  visionary,  unattainable.  But  idealism 
as  a  working  commandment  unites  slow,  pain- 
ful, plodding  conscientiousness  with  airy, 
visionary,  and  unattainable  imaginativeness. 
It  lifts  conscientiousness  into  a  moral  force,  — 
swift,  noble,  and  inspiring.  Conscience  re- 
strains, regulates,  articulates  the  imagination. 
The  imagination  gives  to  the  conscience  wings, 
and  conscience  gives  to  the  imagination  feet. 
The  man  of  idealism  is  a  man  of  ideals,  but 
he  is  more.  He  lives  in  a  certain  atmosphere; 
he  holds  a  certain  attitude;  he  occupies  a  cer- 
tain angle  of  vision;  he  is  moved  by  certain 
higher  purposes.  But  he  has  a  range  of  pur- 
poses which  are  joined  together  by  great  table- 
lands of  common  sense.  He  has  a  reverence  for 
tradition,  for  tradition  represents  idealism  seen 
from  the  side  of  achievement.  The  idealism  of 
tomorrow  becomes  the  history  of  yesterday. 
Sincerity  clothes  this  man  of  idealism  as  with 
a  garment,  for  he  cannot  live  a  lie  in  himself. 
Simple  is  he,  for  he  sees  great  things  and  sees 
them  in  great  relations.     In  noble  self-control 

[26] 


ENTERING  INTO  LIFE 

he  lives,  for  he  is  a  part  of  the  universe  which  is 
subject  to  law.  Resignation  and  aggressive- 
ness are  in  him  united.  He  is  a  patriot,  for  his 
country  is  dear,  but  he  is  also  human.  He  loves 
men  more  than  he  loves  man.  He  is  an  opti- 
mist; he  knows  he  is  in  God's  world  and  that  all 
must  be  well.  He  is  not  a  man  of  ambition, 
for  ambition  is  self-centered.  He  is  a  man  of 
aspiration,  for  aspiration  points  toward  the 
goal.  He  is  a  man  free,  for  he  believes  in  him- 
self. He  is  a  man  tolerant,  for  he  believes  in 
other  men.  Justice,  love  for  the  beautiful, 
temperance,  loyalty,  are  in  him,  for  he  believes 
in  God  and  in  all  that  God  has  made.  In  him 
are  united  not  a  few  contradictories,  —  initia- 
tive and  self-restraint,  laboriousness  and  rest- 
fulness,  concentration  and  versatility,  co- 
operation and  individualism,  considerateness 
and  self-respect,  liberty  and  law,  gravity  and 
gayety,  intensity  and  breadth,  grasp  on  essen- 
tials and  faithfulness  to  details,  the  cardinal 
virtues  and  the  cardinal  graces.  All  these  are 
in  him  joined. 

You  are  going  forth  into  a  world  vastly 
material  and  materialistic.  The  lights  of  the 
street  will  be  nearer  to  you  than  the  stars.  To 
make  a  living  will  at  times  seem  to  you  more 
important  than  to  make  a  life.     Career  may 

[27] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

be  a  goal  more  attractive  than  character. 
The  present  may  seem  longer  than  the  ever 
coming  and  never  coming  future.  The  market 
may  tend  to  transmute  you  into  merchandise. 
Gross  and  sordid  purposes  will  flaunt  them- 
selves before  you.  Trivial  and  perilous  schemes 
will  attract.  Queen  Victoria  said  to  an  arch- 
bishop: "As  I  get  older  I  cannot  understand 
the  world;  I  cannot  comprehend  its  little- 
nesses." But  these  littlenesses  will  at  times 
seem  to  you  not  little.  You  are,  however,  to 
see  them  in  the  light  of  great  principles.  In  the 
comparison  of  eternal  and  infinite  truths,  you 
are  to  be  what  John  Morley  says  Gladstone 
was:  "  Immersed  in  active  responsibiHty  for 
momentous  secular  things,  he  never  lost  the 
breath  of  what  was  to  him  a  diviner  aether. 
Habitually  he  strove  for  the  lofty  uplands 
where  political  and  moral  ideas  meet.  He 
struck  all  who  came  into  contact  with  him  by  a 
goodness  and  elevation  that  matched  the 
activity  and  power  of  his  mind.  His  political 
career  might  seem  doubtful,  but  there  was  no 
doubt  about  the  man." 

Emerson  asks,  in  the  essay  on  The  Trans- 
cendentalist,  "Where  are  the  old  Idealists?" 
Where  are  they  who  represented  genius,  virtue, 
the  invisible  and  heavenly  world?     Some  have 

[28] 


ENTERING  INTO  LIFE 

gone,  but  others  are  here.  They  have  not 
been  taken  in  early  ripeness  to  the  gods. 
High  purposes  are  still  held.  The  unseen  is 
still  seen.  The  temporal  still  has  relations 
with  the  eternal.  Our  frivolity  and  base 
examples  shall  not  dim  the  lustre  of  the  shining 
of  the  stars.  Vulgarity  shall  be  ashamed  in 
the  presence  of  dignity,  and  low  aims  shall 
bury  themselves  beneath  the  sod  of  forgetful- 
ness. 

Such  idealism  is  essential  Christianity.  No 
small  share  of  the  power  of  Christianity  is 
drawn  from  its  idealism.  Christianity  gives 
a  God.  Idealism  in  its  very  being  demands  a 
God.  Christianity  presents  the  highest  stand- 
ard of  duty  and  of  grace.  Idealism  seeks  and 
accepts  the  noblest  aims.  Christianity  offers 
the  mightiest  force  in  doing  duty,  —  love. 
Idealism  is  quickened  by  the  finest  affections. 
Christianity  gives  a  sense  of  proportion  of 
values.  Idealism  sees  things  in  relations. 
Christianity  interprets  life  as  more  than  living, 
the  body  as  more  than  raiment,  the  soul  as 
more  than  the  body,  eternity  as  more  than 
time,  the  laws  of  being  as  more  than  the 
methods  of  exchange:  all  this  is  idealistic. 
Christianity  is  idealism.  The  most  perfect 
working  type  of  idealism  is  found  in  Chris- 

[29] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

tianity.  The  record  of  Christianity  is  a  record 
of  the  triumphs  of  idealism. 

A  second  commandment  leading  to  life  is 
the  commandment  to  work.  "  Six  days  shalt 
thou  labor."  The  parenthesis  of  the  fourth 
commandment  is  important,  as  well  as  the 
main  text.  The  first  commandment  of  Eden 
is  reinforced  at  Sinai,  and  it  becomes  the 
message  of  the  teacher  of  Nazareth  and  of  the 
Apostle  of  Tarsus.  The  command  to  do  is  a 
command  addressed,  of  course,  to  the  will. 
But  to  the  college  people  it  is  a  command 
having  special  relation  to  the  brain.  The  work 
which  you  are  to  do  is  to  be  a  work  in  which 
you  can  use  your  intellect.  Into  every  work, 
of  course,  some  mental  force  enters.  But  the 
greater  the  opportunity  for  the  use  of  intellect 
in  every  service,  —  other  elements  being  the 
same,  —  the  more  worthy  of  you  is  that 
service. 

It  is  significant  that  of  the  first  five  hundred 
and  thirty-one  graduates  of  our  oldest  college 
in  its  first  sixty-five  years,  about  one-half 
became  clergymen.  It  is  also  significant  that 
for  many  years  in  the  last  century,  more 
graduates  of  certain  colleges  entered  the  law 
than  entered  any  other  calling.  It  has  now 
become  most  significant  that  a  larger  number 

[30] 


ENTERING  INTO  LIFE 

of  graduates  are  entering  business.  The  pro- 
fessions are  usually  called  learned.  Business 
is  not  usually  called  learned.  But  those  who 
are  to  enter  business  are  to  make  business  a 
learned  calling.  Small  is  the  outlook  for  you 
in  any  work  unless  you  can  make  that  work 
intellectual.  The  increase  in  the  horse-power 
of  the  world  in  the  last  fifty,  twenty,  and  ten 
years  has  been  tremendous.  The  increase  in 
the  brain  power  has  not  been  so  tremendous. 
Any  place  in  which  you  can  use  your  brain, 
your  whole  brain,  your  brain  at  its  highest  co- 
efficient of  power,  you  should  feel  free  to 
accept.  The  perception  of  a  fact,  the  co- 
ordination of  facts,  the  conclusion  of  facts, 
the  weighing  of  evidence,  judgment,  these 
represent  forces  which  every  worthy  calling 
should  accept  from  you.  If,  for  the  use  of 
such  forces,  a  calling  has  no  primary  need,  it 
is  no  calling  for  you  to  accept.  If,  for  the  use  of 
such  forces,  a  calling  does  have  primary  need, 
it  may  worthily  represent  the  field  of  your 
choice.  I  recall  that  Henry  Adams  says  that 
Clarence  King  had  a  poor  opinion  of  intellect. 
He  found  it  a  defective  instrument,  but  he 
admitted  it  was  all  that  man  had  to  live  upon, 
although  he  confessed  that  women  had  other 
power  also. 

[31] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

In  the  last  fifty  years,  the  earning  of  each 
inhabitant  of  this  country  has  almost  doubled. 
In  the  year  1850,  each  person  earned, 
on  the  average,  each  day,  thirty  cents; 
in  1880,  44  5/10  cents;  in  1890,  51  44/100 
cents;  in  1900,58  12/100  cents.  This  increase 
is  due  both  to  the  enlarged  efficiency  of 
material  forces  and  to  the  enlarged  efficiency 
of  the  human  brain.  The  enlarged  efficiency 
of  material  forces  is,  of  course,  the  resultant  of 
the  action  of  the  brain  and  the  human  will. 
This  increase  is  the  application  of  the  com- 
mandment of  Eden  and  of  Sinai,  —  "  Six  days 
shalt  thou  labor." 

Of  such  work,  demanding  intellect,  you  are 
to  be  the  master.  Work  is  in  peril  of  making 
the  worker  like  the  well-digger,  the  further  he 
digs  the  lower  he  falls  and  the  narrower  be- 
comes his  outlook  or  uplook.  Work  should 
make  the  worker  like  the  wall-builder,  —  the 
further  he  builds,  the  broader  his  vision,  the 
larger  his  relations.  You  are  to  be  the  master. 
Work  enslaves  some  men.  No  slave-driver's 
whip  was  ever  more  imperative  than  is  the 
compulsion  of  the  duties  of  some  men's  work. 
You  are  to  be  the  master  intellectually.  You 
are  to  see,  understand,  appreciate.  You  are 
to  know  your  work;  you  are  to  know  your- 

[32] 


ENTERING  INTO  LIFE 

self;  you  are  to  know  your  work  in  relation 
to  yourself  and  yourself  in  relation  to  your 
work.  You  are  to  be  the  master  morally. 
The  temptations  of  your  work  you  are  to 
understand  in  their  nature  and  constitution,  to 
feel  in  their  attractivenesses  and  repulsion. 
You  are  to  be  master  of  your  work  in  your 
will.  You  are  to  be  able  to  lay  it  down  as  well 
as  to  take  it  up.  The  mastery  required  for 
laying  down  a  work  is  sometimes  more  magnifi- 
cent than  mastery  required  for  taking  up  and 
carrying  forward  a  great  work. 

The  greatness  of  the  President  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Chicago  has  been  seen  for  more 
than  a  decade  in  wisdom  of  planning  and 
energy  of  doing.  So  great  an  educational 
result  of  a  decade  the  world  has  never  known. 
The  conditions  were,  and  are,  unique.  The 
material  forces  have  also  been  unique.  The  re- 
sult has,  furthermore,  been  unique.  But,  the 
greatness  of  the  man  himself,  the  President, 
William  Rainey  Harper,  has  been  proved  quite 
as  much  by  the  calmness,  fearlessness,  and 
willingness  to  close  the  door  of  this  greatest 
opportunity.  If  God  calls  you  to  lay  down  a 
work  of  riches  and  the  highest  promise,  you 
will  show  yourself  a  masterful  hero  quite  as 
much  in  letting  fall  the  task  as  in  being  willing 

[33] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

to  carry  it  forward  to  glorious  completion  and 
consummation. 

For  those  who  are  masters  of  great  work,  for 
those  who  have  brains  to  put  into  great  work, 
the  calling  is  loud  and  insistent.  The  demand 
for  common  folk  must  be  great,  because  there 
are  so  many  of  us.  But  the  demand  for  un- 
common folk  is  as  much  more  insistent  as  it 
is  narrower.  Men  of  force  and  of  vision,  men 
of  faithfulness  and  of  courtesy,  men  of  bold- 
ness and  of  self-restraint,  men  who  are  teachers 
and  doers,  men  of  guidance  and  of  inspiration, 
men  of  such  character  and  power  as  you  college 
folk  represent,  for  such  the  world  calls  mightily. 

I  would  not  say  to  you  what  Pasteur  said 
to  the  students  of  Edinburgh  on  the  occasion 
of  its  three  hundredth  anniversary:  "  Work 
perseveringly;  work  can  be  made  into  a 
pleasure,  and  alone  is  profitable  to  man,  to 
his  city,  to  his  country."  But  I  would  say  to 
you,  choose  a  work  demanding  your  highest 
and  best  intellect,  and  of  such  a  work  make 
yourself  a  great  master. 

tin  aiding  graduates  to  become  masters  of 
work,  the  colleges  are  setting,  with  each  passing 
year,  a  worthier  example  and  a  stronger  in- 
spiration. Those  who  are  founding  and  en- 
dowing   colleges    are    inclined    to    apply    the 

[34] 


ENTERING  INTO  LIFE 

standard  of  efficiency  with  increasing  thorough- 
ness. The  three  men  who  are  doing  the  most 
to  equip  colleges  are  applying  the  test  of  effi- 
ciency. Dr.  Pearsons,  Mr.  Carnegie  and  Mr. 
Rockefeller  are  constantly  examining  colleges 
for  the  purpose  of  learning  the  relationship 
between  their  product  and  their  expenditure. 
Of  course  a  share  of  the  academic  product  it  is 
impossible  to  test  by  ordinary  standards. 
The  product  has  a  value  in  quality  as  well  as 
in  quantity.  But  the  test  of  amount  of  product 
has  value.  One  of  the  gentlemen  said  to  me 
recently,  speaking  of  a  college  which  he  had 
been  asked  to  aid,  "  That  college  has  property 
amounting  to  one  and  a  quarter  millions  of 
dollars  and  one  hundred  and  eighty  students." 
It  was  a  college  historic,  numbering  among  its 
graduates  the  greatest  names.  "  But,"  he 
declared,  by  inference,  "  the  result  is  not 
commensurate  with  the  expenditure."  This 
College  of  which  you  are  becoming  graduates, 
and  every  college,  should  impress  each  student 
through  the  economic  efficiency  and  the 
efficient  economy  of  the  use  of  equipment  and 
of  endowment. 

A  third  commandment  written  upon  the 
posts  of  the  doorway  of  life  may  be  called  the 
commandment  of  love.     The  last  six  of  the 

[35] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

commandments  of  the  twentieth  of  Exodus 
are  easily  interpreted  as  commandments  of 
love.  For  what  is  "  Honor  father  and  mother  " 
but  an  expression  of  love?  What  is  the  pro- 
hibition against  committing  adultery  but 
respect  for  love,  love  high  and  pure?  What 
is  the  prohibition  against  stealing,  false  wit- 
nessing, and  coveting,  but  respect  for  prop- 
erty, for  truth,  for  rights?  What,  in  fact, 
is  the  twentieth  of  Exodus  but  an  analysis  of 
another  command  of  the  sixth  of  Deuter- 
onomy? ^'And  thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy 
God  with  all  thine  heart,  and  with  all  thy 
soul,  and  with  all  thy  might." 

The  command  to  love,  as  a  means  of  entering 
into  life,  has  special  application  in  every  age. 
In  this  age,  it  has,  I  think,  three  or  four  applica- 
tions of  peculiar  significance. 

One  application  of  love  in  our  time  is  to  be 
made  to  that  industrial  and  commercial  method 
known  as  competition.  Competition  is  called 
the  life  of  trade.  It  often  proves  to  be  the 
death  of  trade.  For  competition  may  result  in 
monopoly.  Monopoly  is  monarchy  writ  large. 
Monarchy  may  crush.  The  central  question 
is,  —  How  far  forth  should  competition  be 
guided  by  the  principle  of  love?  The  central 
answer  to  be  made  at  once  is,  competition  is 

[36] 


ENTERING  INTO  LIFE 

to  be  guided  absolutely  by  the  principle  of 
love.  For  the  principle  of  love  is  higher  than 
the  method  of  competition.  The  principle  of 
love  in  trade  is  to  be  applied  at  once  to  one's 
neighbor  and  to  oneself.  The  command 
that  you  are  to  love  your  neighbor  as  yourself 
implies  that  you  are  to  love  yourself  as  you 
love  your  neighbor.  Your  love  for  yourself 
is  to  be  adjusted  to  your  love  for  your  neighbor, 
and  your  love  for  your  neighbor  is  to  be  ad- 
justed to  your  love  for  yourself.  These  two 
principles  are  to  be  fitted  to  each  other  under 
the  purpose  of  the  betterment  of  the  com- 
munity. Competition  may  survive  or  compe- 
tition may  fall,  but  it  is  either  to  survive  or  to 
fall  under  the  law  of  the  fitting  relation  of 
egoistic  and  altruistic  love. 

This  principle  of  love  is  also  to  be  applied 
to  a  second  part  of  the  human  field.  It  be- 
longs rightfully  to  the  domain  of  capital  and 
labor.  One  of  the  saddest  impressions  of  our 
time  relates  to  the  indifference  of  some  men 
who  are  employers  concerning  those  whom 
they  employ.  Its  sadness  is  exceeded  only 
by  the  sadness  arising  out  of  the  jealousy 
and  hatred  of  some  employees  against  some 
employers.  The  strike,  the  lock-out,  is  an 
industrial   aifair,   it  is   said,   but  each   easily 

[37] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

becomes  a  personal  affair.  When  either  be- 
comes a  personal  affair,  it  easily  becomes  also 
essential  murder. 

The  community  may  assent  to  the  belief  that 
there  should  be  absolute  liberty  in  all  industrial 
affairs  in  respect  to  making  contracts.  The 
community  may  recognize  that  both  labor  and 
capital  have  the  right  to  organize,  each  for  its 
own  good,  provided  the  public  good  be  not 
thereby  impaired.  The  community  may  be 
apprehensive  that  the  closed  shop  represents  a 
certain  fixedness  of  principle  and  of  industrial 
condition  which  is  distasteful  to  the  American 
mind.  The  community  may  fear  that  the 
closed  shop  may  take  away  certain  motives 
and  incentives  to  industrial  and  personal 
benefit.  But,  above  all  else,  the  community 
recognizes  that  man  is  man  before  he  is  a 
laborer,  and  that,  in  the  treatment  given  to 
him  as  a  laborer,  the  element  of  the  man  is 
superior  and  supreme.  The  community  recog- 
nized that  in  this  human  part,  sympathy, 
respect,  fellowship,  love,  are  first,  fundamental, 
ultimate,  supreme. 

A  third  application  of  the  commandment  of 
love  is  to  be  made  to  the  common  relationship 
of  nations.  Love  has  touched  the  individual 
and    humanized    him.     Can    love    touch    the 

[38] 


ENTERING  INTO  LIFE 

nation  and  civilize  it?  Love  has  abolished  in 
America  the  duel.  Seventy  years  ago,  students 
fought  duels  and  killed  each  other.  Can  love 
disarm  nations.^  Respect  for  person  and  for 
property  has  created  and  established  courts  of 
law  in  a  single  state.  Can  a  similar  respect 
maintain,  as  it  has  established,  permanent 
courts  of  arbitration?  Although  England  is 
always  fighting  somewhere,  yet  with  a  civilized 
power,  with  the  single  exception  of  the  Crimean, 
England  has  not  had  a  war  for  almost  one 
hundred  years.  In  the  century  preceding  her 
sword  was  seldom  in  its  sheath.  But  love  is 
not  only  to  abolish  war;  it  is  also  to  disarm 
the  nations.  To  disarm  the  nations  is  to  trans- 
mute poverty  into  competency,  and  com- 
petency into  wealth.  It  is  to  transform  con- 
sumers into  producers,  destroyers  into  creators. 
The  army  and  the  navy  threaten  to  make 
every  great  power  of  the  old  world  bankrupt. 
Love  would  give  wealth,  as  well  as  peace. 
Love  also  lessens  a  certain  touchiness  found 
among  the  nations.  States  are  like  capital,  — 
sensitive.  They  are  easily  provoked.  To 
jealousy  they  seem  naturally  subject.  Each 
eyes  the  other  with  suspicion.  Each  fears  that 
others  are  plotting  against  its  welfare.  Ig- 
norance begets  fear;  fear,  anger;   anger,  self- 

[39] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

defence;  self-defence,  conflict.  But  love  en- 
genders confidence;  confidence,  frankness; 
frankness,  sympathy;  sympathy,  co-operation; 
and  co-operation,  union  and  unity.  Love 
would  oblige  nations  to  heed  the  command- 
ment, "  Thou  shalt  not  kill,"  and  would  prevent 
nations  from  coveting  provinces  on  the  Rhine 
and  territory  in  Manchuria.  Love  is  the  con- 
stitution of  every  peace  society. 

Love  is  also  to  be  applied  to,  and  in,  the 
personal  relation.  John  Hay,  writing  of  a 
friend,  said:  "  I  once  introduced  him  to  an 
eminent  writer,  who  remarked,  *  I  understand 
now  the  secret  of  his  charm.  It  is  his  kind- 
ness. ' "  Jealousies,  envies,  bickerings,  are  to 
be  made  to  cease.  Men  are  to  care  for  and 
bless  each  other.  Let  no  one  ever  come  to  you 
without  finding  a  friend.  Let  no  one  ever 
depart  from  you  without  leaving  a  helper. 
Happiness  is  born  in  love.  Forbearance,  in- 
spiration, guidance,  are  its  results.  College 
folk,  above  all  others,  are  to  be  great  lovers  of 
their  kind. 

Idealism,  work,  love!  These  three  words 
sum  up  the  ten  commandments  of  Exodus. 
These  three  words  represent  the  command- 
ments, of  which  living  means  life.  In  whom 
are   these   great   commandments   united    and 

[40] 


ENTERING  INTO  LIFE 

incarnated?  In  whom,  other  than  in  him  who 
spoke  them?  Did  ever  idealism  have  a  higher 
aspiration?  Was  conscientiousness  ever  more 
noble  or  more  deeply  touched  by  lofty  imagi- 
nation? Are  not  his  beatitudes  the  creed  of  the 
ideahst?  Are  not  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven, 
the  vision  of  God,  and  the  childhood  in  God, 
the  life  richest  and  finest?  Was  he  not  poor 
in  spirit,  pure  in  heart,  and  did  he  not  come  as 
the  Prince  of  Peace?  Was  not  the  Christ  the 
great  worker?  Did  he  not  say,  "  My  Father 
worketh  hitherto,  and  I  work  "  ?  Were  there 
not  joined  in  him  the  three  most  laborious 
callings  of  the  carpenter,  the  teacher,  and  the 
physician?  Was  not  his  last  command,  "  Go, 
and  do  "  ?  Moreover,  was  not  he  the  great 
lover  of  all  history  ?  Were  not  his  first  recorded 
acts,  acts  of  obedience?  And  among  his  last, 
were  there  not  found  the  prayer  of  forgiveness? 
Are  not  the  arms  of  his  cross  raised  in  bene- 
diction and  beneficence,  and  were  not  his  last 
words,  words  of  benediction  and  peace?  The 
Christ  was  the  idealist,  the  worker,  the  lover. 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Classes: 

If  thou  wouldst  enter  into  life,  keep  the 
Commandments.  To  the  one  to  whom  these 
words    were    spoken,    life    meant    the    richest 

[41] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

character.  If  he  were  to  become  the  best 
man,  he  was  to  keep  the  Commandments  of 
God.  These  words  are  still  as  true  as  on  that 
day  in  which  they  were  first  spoken.  If  you 
are  to  become  the  best  that  lieth  in  you,  you 
are  to  keep  the  Commandments.  You  are  to 
keep  them,  not  because  they  are  command- 
ments, but  you  are  to  keep  them  because  the 
Commandments  represent  truth,  law,  principle. 
But  the  words  may  be  interpreted  in  a  sense 
narrow  and  special.  You  are  entering  into 
what  is'  called  life.  This  week  for  you  ends 
pupilage,  dependence,  learning,  training,  educa- 
tion. For  pupilage,  self-direction;  for  learning, 
activity;  for  training,  service;  for  education, 
achievement  is  to  be  substituted.  The  prepa- 
ration is  made,  the  ship  is  built,  the  day  of 
launching  has  dawned.  In  this  life,  you  are 
yet  to  be  under  the  Commandments.  Ideal- 
ism; it  is  to  be  to  you  at  once  an  atmosphere 
and  a  mountain  peak.  In  it  you  are  to  breathe; 
for  it,  you  are  to  aspire.  Work;  it  is  to  be 
your  happy  habit,  —  unceasing,  progressive, 
remunerative,  inspiring,  recreative.  Love;  it 
is  to  be  your  life.  Thus  shall  character  grow 
from  more  to  more. 


[42] 


Ill 

SYMPATHY  THE  SOLUTION  OF 
THE  SOCIAL  PROBLEM 


Chapter  III 

SYMPATHY  THE  SOLUTION  OF  THE 

SOCIAL  PROBLEM 

[1906] 

"  And  it  came  to  pass,  that,  as  Jesus  sat  at  meat  in  his 
house,  many  publicans  and  sinners  sat  also  together  with 
Jesus  and  his  disciples:  for  there  were  many,  and  they 
followed  him." — Mark  ii :  IS. 

THE  text  is  a  picture  of  democracy.  The 
democracy  of  Christ  springs  from  the 
sympathy  of  Christ.  The  association 
of  Christ  with  men  has  its  origin  in  his  innate 
respect  for  men.  Sympathy  is  primary.  Sym- 
pathy represents  thinking  with,  feeling  with, 
choosing  with,  suffering  with,  rejoicing  with, 
others.  Sympathy  is  appreciation.  It  is  the 
adoption  of  the  other's  point  of  view.  It  is 
the  putting  oneself  in  the  other's  place. 
Sympathy  is  an  incarnation  of  the  other  per- 
son in  oneself.  It  is  the  transfer  of  interest. 
It  is  vicariousness.  Sympathy  is  your  life 
lived  in,  and  for,  me;  it  is  my  life  lived  in, 
and  for,  you.  It  is  the  appeal  of  the  race  to 
the    individual    to    surrender    his    individual 

[45] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

interests  for  the  sake  of  the  race.  It  is  the 
appeal  of  the  individual  for  deliverance  from 
the  small  and  the  trivial,  and  for  deliverance 
into  the  great  movements  and  achievements 
of  the  race. 

An  illustration  of  the  broad  relation  of  sym- 
pathy lies  in  the  field  which  is  itself  made  up  of 
large  human  concerns,  —  namely,  literature. 
Literature  is  more  or  less  great  as  it  appeals  to 
the  greater  or  smaller  interests  of  men.  Great 
literatuij'e  is  great  because  it  appeals  to  great 
interests.  Pick  out  the  poems  or  the  essays 
which  are  held  to  be  the  dearest  and  the  noblest, 
and  it  will  be  found  that  they  make  the 
strongest  appeal  to  the  largest  numbers.  Mr. 
Lowell's  greatest  ode  commemorates  the  college 
men  who  died  on  the  field  of  honor  at  their 
country's  call.  Wordsworth's  greatest  ode 
sings  the  intimations  of  the  life  immortal. 
Tennyson's  greatest  poem  is  a  chant  of  life 
and  of  death,  and  of  life  becoming  the  final 
conqueror.  The  greatest  works  of  the  greatest 
novelist  of  our  country  are  concerned  with  the 
central  theme  of  the  dominance  of  conscience. 
The  sin,  the  sorrow,  the  atonement,  of  Arthur 
Dimmesdale  are  only  single  notes  in  the 
greatest  human  Miserere.  The  novel  attains 
its  unique  place  in  human  life  by  reason  of  the 

[46] 


THE  SOCIAL  PROBLEM 

Vesponsiveness  which  its  note  of  love  quick- 
ens in  every  soul.  Literature  touches  things 
fundamental,  elemental,  universal,  eternal. 
It  therefore  is  literature.  Human  sympathy  is 
likewise  to  embrace  the  things  that  are  deepest, 
highest,  most  lasting,  in  human  character. 

The  principle,  then,  which  I  wish  to  explain 
is  the  principle  of  sympathy.  This  principle 
I  do  not  wish  so  much  to  explain  as  I  wish 
to  apply  it.  I  wish  to  apply  it  in  the  solving 
of  the  social  problem. 

For,  what  is  the  social  problem.^  It  is  the 
problem  of  society.  It  is  the  problem  "  How 
can  human  beings  live  together  in  peace  and 
efficiency?  "  It  is  the  problem  of  humanizing 
life.  Society  was  of  the  farm;  the  farm  stood 
for  isolation.  Society  is  of  the  factory;  the 
factory  stands  for  consolidation.  Agriculture 
is  separation;  industrialism,  combination.  The 
problems  of  the  farm-time  were  political.  The 
present  problems  are  social.  Reflecting  in 
the  late  evening  of  his  long  day  of  life,  Glad- 
stone, speaking  of  his  work  as  a  law-maker,  and 
referring  only  to  achieved  results,  noted  these 
achievements:  "  (First)  The  Tariffs,  1842- 
1860;  (Second)  Oxford  University  Act;  (Third) 
Post  Office  Savings  Banks;  (Fourth)  Irish 
Church  Disestablishment;  (Fifth)   Irish  Land 

[47] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

Acts;  (Sixth)  Franchise  Act."  What  are  these 
results?  Are  they  not  largely  social?  They 
have  to  do  with  men  living  together  in  happi- 
ness and  service. 

The  social  question  is  tremendously  im- 
portant. In  it  lie  the  germs  of  revolutions. 
A  man  living  in  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of 
all  homes  said  to  me,  "  The  social  revolution 
is  sure  to  come.  It  was  near  coming  in  1896." 
A  young  merchant  just  out  of  college  said  to 
me,  "  The  revolution  is  sure  to  come.  Current 
discussions  and  movements  make  plain  it  will 
be  here  within  a  decade."  Writing  in  the 
year  1835,  Tocqueville  said:  "The  good 
things  and  the  evils  of  life  are  more  equally 
distributed  in  the  world:  great  wealth  tends 
to  disappear,  the  number  of  small  fortunes  to 
increase;  desires  and  gratifications  are  multi- 
plied, but  extraordinary  prosperity  and  irre- 
mediable penury  are  alike  unknown.  The 
sentiment  of  ambition  is  universal,  but  the 
scope  of  ambition  is  seldom  vast.  Each 
individual  stands  apart  in  solitary  weakness; 
but  society  at  large  is  active,  provident,  and 
powerful:  the  performances  of  private  persons 
are  insignificant,  those  of  the  state  immense." 

Three  score  of  years  and  ten  have  wrought 
great  changes.     Have  the  good  things  and  the 

[48] 


THE  SOCIAL  PROBLEM 

evils  of  life  become  more  equally  distributed? 
Has  great  wealth  disappeared?  Is  ex- 
traordinary prosperity  or  irremediable  pen- 
ury still  unknown?  Is  the  scope  of  ambition 
still  seldom  vast?  Does  the  individual  stand 
forth  and  apart  in  solitary  weakness?  Is  it 
not  true,  rather,  as  Canon  Barnett  has  said: 
"  On  one  side  are  the  classes  in  possession,  who 
rejoice  in  their  refinements  and  restraints, 
in  the  cleanliness  of  their  persons  and  the 
order  of  their  meals,  in  their  knowledge  and 
culture.  On  the  other  side  are  the  working 
classes,  who  rejoice  in  their  strength,  make 
merry  over  the  mincing  ways  of  their  neigh- 
bors, and  grow  angry  over  what  seems  to  be 
their  hypocrisy  and  selfishness." 

The  problem  is,  therefore,  the  social  problem 
to  aid  men  to  live  together  in  happiness  and 
in  efficiency,  in  peace  and  in  service.  What 
will  aid  men  unto  such  humanizing  living? 

Be  it  said  negatively,  the  problem  is  not  to 
be  solved  by  any  attempt  at  equality  in  work, — 
material,  intellectual,  ethical.  Inequalities  do 
exist,  and  apparently  must  exist.  Men  are 
born  equal,  not  in  ability  or  environment, 
but  they  are  born  equal  simply  in  having  cer- 
tain legal  rights.  The  second  term  of  the 
French  Triad  is  false,  as  the  other  two  are  true. 

[49] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

Liberty  is  the  best  condition;  fraternity  is  a 
very  precious  result;  equality,  in  any  other 
sense  than  a  legal  sense,  is  impossible. 

Nor  can  the  problem  be  solved  by  largesses  or 
by  relief  funds.  The  history  of  poor  relief  for 
two  thousand  years  proves  that  the  ordinary 
methods  of  municipal  and  personal  help,  of 
dealing  with  poverty,  create  or  make  more 
difficult  the  problem  which  they  are  designed 
to  solve. 

Nor  can  a  solution  be  found  in  what  is  known 
as  the  Closed  Shop,  or  the  Closed  Association 
of  Employers.  These  propositions  are  more 
or  less  true:  1st,  that  there  is  a  presumption 
in  favor  of  absolute  liberty  of  contract  and  of 
personal  conduct;  2d,  the  community  recog- 
nizes the  rights  of  both  labor  and  capital  to 
organize  each  for  its  own  good  provided  the 
public  good  be  not  thereby  impaired;  3d,  the 
community  acknowledges  that  hygienic  and 
other  important  conditions  may  often  be  best 
obtained  for  the  whole  body  of  workmen  by 
the  whole  body  rather  than  by  the  individual; 
4th,  the  community  is  apprehensive  that  the 
Closed  Shop  represents  a  certain  fixedness  of 
principle  and  industrial  condition  which  is 
distasteful  to  the  American  mind;  Sth,  the 
community   holds   that   each   man   should   be 

[50] 


THE  SOCIAL  PROBLEM 

treated  in  his  relationship  of  employment 
primarily  as  an  individual;  6th,  the  community 
has  a  distinct  fear  that  the  Closed  Shop  may 
result  in  taking  away  certain  motives  and 
incentives  to  industrial  and  personal  benefit; 
7th,  the  people  firmly  believe  that  a  change  so 
fundamental  in  the  industrial  and  personal 
order  as  is  embodied  in  the  Closed  Shop  should 
be  made,  not  by  one  party  nor  arbitrarily,  but 
should  be  made  after  thoughtful  debate  and 
by  the  whole  body  concerned.  These  propo- 
sitions may  be  more  or  less  true,  but  they  do 
not  represent  the  force  or  the  wisdom  necessary 
for  solving  the  problem. 

The  method  which  seems  to  me  of  the  high- 
est worth  in  the  solution  of  the  social  problem 
is  sympathy. 

For,  first,  sympathy  represents  respect  for 
men  as  men.  It  pictures  men  as  having  God 
for  their  common  Father,  and  the  human 
brotherhood  as  their  common  environment. 
Sympathy  has  a  keen  sense  of  values.  It  treats 
the  accidental  and  the  incidental  as  the  ac- 
cidental and  the  incidental.  It  finds  the 
image  of  God  in  every  child.  It  regards  the 
individual  as  an  individual,  but  also  regards 
the  individual  as  existing  in,  and  for,  the  race. 
It  respects    the  race    as   the    race,   but   also 

[51] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

knows  that  the  race  exists  for  the  individual. 
It  declares  that  the  differences  which  divide 
men  are  slight  in  comparison  with  the  like- 
nesses which  unite  them.  The  lowest  man 
and  the  highest  are  much  more  alike  than 
are  the  highest  brute  and  the  lowest  man. 
Men  are  divided  largely  by  exterior  goods  or 
evils.  Men  are  united  by  the  great  principles 
of  justice,  of  temperance,  of  tolerance,  of  in- 
tegrity and  sincerity,  of  self-cpntrol  and  self- 
reverence,  of  imagination  and  industry,  of 
liberty  and  humanity,  of  life  and  of  death, 
of  sorrow  and  of  peace.  These  are  the  great 
things.  Every  home  has  its  cradle;  every 
house,  its  casket.  The  mystery  of  life  and 
the  mystery  of  death  alike  brood  over  all. 
Sorrow  and  joy  knock  at  every  door.  Sym- 
pathy commands  respect  for  men  as  men. 
Sympathy  commanding  respect  for  men  as 
men  does  not  so  much  solve  the  social  problem 
as  it  dissolves  it.  Its  hard  and  rugged  lines 
are  melted  by  the  warm  smiles  or  the  hot  tears 
of  tender  sympathy. 

In  the  respect  of  man  for  man  is  included 
what  may  be  called  the  element  of  neighbor- 
liness.  One  regrets  that  the  neighborhood  is 
passing  away.  People  are  seldom  neighbors 
now.     People  living  near  each  other  do    not 

152] 


THE  SOCIAL  PROBLEM 

unite  because  they  live  near  each  other. 
It  would  help  this  common  respect  of  man 
for  man  if  the  neighborhood  could  be  restored. 
Peter  Harvey  tells  a  story  of  Daniel  Webster 
that,  in  the  year  1817,  Mr.  Webster  was 
called  to  defend  two  men  who  were  accused 
of  highway  robbery.  The  appeal  came  to  him 
at  a  time  when  he  was  tired  out  by  service  in 
Congress  and  in  the  courts.  He  had  arranged 
to  go  away  from  his  home.  He  felt  no  fee 
could  tempt  him  to  do  further  work.  Three 
men  from  New  Hampshire  were  announced. 
They  asked  him  to  defend  the  accused.  The 
evidence  for  guilt  was  strong,  but  the  feeling 
was  that  the  men  were  innocent,  being  the 
subjects  of  a  conspiracy.  One  of  the  three 
delegates  said:  "  Here  are  two  New  Hampshire 
men  who  are  believed  in  Exeter  and  Newbury, 
and  Newburyport  and  Salem,  to  be  rascals; 
but  we  in  Newmarket  believe,  in  spite  of  all 
evidence  against  them,  that  they  are  the  vic- 
tims of  some  conspiracy.  We  think  you  are 
the  man  to  unravel  it,  though  it  seems  a  good 
deal  tangled  even  to  us.  Still  we  suppose  that 
men  whom  we  know  to  have  been  honest  all 
their  lives  can't  have  become  such  desperate 
rogues  all  of  a  sudden."  "  But  I  cannot  take 
the    case,"    persisted    Mr.    Webster;    "  I    am 

[S3] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

worn  to  death  with  over-work;  I  have  not 
had  any  real  sleep  for  forty-eight  hours.  Be- 
sides, I  know  nothing  of  the  case."  "  It's 
hard,  I  can  see,"  continued  the  leader  of  the 
delegation;  "  but  you're  a  New  Hampshire 
man,  and  the  neighbors  thought  that  you 
would  not  allow  two  innocent  New  Hampshire 
men,  however  humble  they  may  be  in  their 
circumstances,  to  suffer  for  lack  of  your  skill  in 
exposing  the  wiles  of  this  scoundrel  Goodridge. 
The  neighbors  all  desire  you  to  take  the 
case." 

That  phrase  "  neighbors  "  caused  Mr.  Web- 
ster to  take  the  case.  The  "  neighbors " 
wanted  it;  the  "neighbors"  thought  he  would 
do  it;  the  "neighbors"!  It  brought  back  to 
the  mind  and  heart  of  Daniel  Webster  the 
community  of  association,  of  poverty,  of  sick- 
ness, of  small  economies,  of  distresses  of  many 
sorts,  of  boyhood  and  of  manhood,  of  birth 
and  of  death.  "  Oh,"  said  Mr.  Webster,  "  if 
the  neighbors  think  I  can  be  of  service,  of 
course  I  must  go."  If  to  the  American  city 
there  could  be  restored  the  neighbor  and  the 
neighborhood,  respect  for  man  as  man  would 
be  heightened  and  a  common  sympathy  vastly 
increased. 

Second:  Sympathy  leads  not  only  to  a  re- 

[54] 


THE  SOCIAL  PROBLEM 

gard  for  men  as  men  and  to  emphasis  on 
fundamental  human  conditions;  sympathy  also 
leads  to  love.  There  is  intellectual  sympa- 
thy,—  appreciation.  There  is  emotional  sym- 
pathy, —  fellow  feeling.  There  is  also  voli- 
tional sympathy,  which  I  call  love.  To  love 
men  is  the  only  panacea.  Jeremy  Bentham 
said:  "  If  you  would  gain  mankind,  the  best 
way  is  to  appear  to  love  them,  and  the  best 
way  of  appearing  to  love  them  is  to  love 
them  in  reality."  "  Life  in  its  largeness,"  says 
Woodberry  in  his  great  Essay  on  Swinburne, 
"  is  the  power  to  love."  The  value  of  love  for 
men  is  today  beset  by  two  perils.  One  peril 
is  the  love  of  things.  People  love  material 
goods;  they  love  wealth;  they  love  money. 
The  love  of  lucre  represents,  concentrates,  the 
love  for  things.  How  silly  is  this  love!  The 
pathos  of  Mr.  Dombey's  interpretation  of 
money  to  his  poor  little  Paul  makes  the  silli- 
ness of  this  love  deeply  pathetic.  The  love  for 
men  as  men  is  also  hurt  by  the  passion  for 
processes,  by  the  ambition  for  progress,  by 
the  desire  to  get  on.  The  current  American 
"  will  and  way  "  of  making  one's  own  way 
results  in  the  overthrow  of  the  person  who 
stands  in  the  way.  But  these  two  loves, — 
for   things   and   for   processes,  —  are   yet   set 

[55] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

aside  by  a  mightier  love  for  men  as  men.  To 
know  men,  to  be  with  men,  to  serve  men, 
means  that  one  will  and  shall  love  men.  Of 
the  great  historian,  Green,  Leslie  Stephen  says: 
"  His  sympathies  with  human  beings  were 
strengthened;  and  the  history  might  have  been 
written  in  a  very  different  tone  had  the  writer 
passed  his  days  in  academical  seclusion.  His 
interest  in  the  welfare  of  the  masses,  and  his 
conviction  that  due  importance  should  be 
given  to  their  social  condition,  determined  a 
very  important  peculiarity  of  the  work." 
Thus,  being  with  men,  understanding  men's 
conditions,  knowing  their  environments,  one 
shall  love  men. 

It  you  thus  love  men,  the  social  problem  is 
solved,  or,  when  the  love  has  become  dominant 
the  social  problem  has  largely  vanished. 

Third:  Sympathy  is  the  method  of  the 
solving  of  the  social  problem.  For  sympathy 
leads  one  to  the  Christ  as  teacher  and  inspirer. 
One  who  is  taught  and  moved  by  the  Christ 
will  possess  great  sympathy.  For,  the  Christ 
represents  the  largest  interpretation  of  human 
life.  The  industrial  classes  have  largely  fallen 
away  from  the  Protestant  churches,  but  they 
have  not  fallen  away  from  the  Christ.  The 
son  of  the  carpenter,  and  himself  a  carpenter, 
[56] 


THE  SOCIAL  PROBLEM 

is  their  idol  and  their  ideal.  "  Down  with 
the  churches,"  they  may  cry,  but  before  the 
manger  and  the  cross  they  stand  in  mute 
worship. 

Pilate's  "  Behold  the  man "  is  still  inter- 
pretative. He  is  the  consummate,  compre- 
hensive character.  He  comes  bearing  the  two 
widest  and  most  important  functions  of  teach- 
ing and  of  healing.  He  unites  the  contra- 
dictories of  human  experiences.  He  is  holy, 
but  he  wishes  to  be  baptized  by  his  kinsmen. 
He  is  wise  and  strong,  but  he  selects  men  to 
learn  and  to  serve.  He  is  transfigured  on  the 
mountain  peak,  but  he  descends  to  the  valley 
to  heal  the  poor  sick  boy.  He  is  capable  of 
mighty  moral  indignations,  but  he  forgives  the 
penitent  and  encourages  the  imperfect.  He 
proclaims  the  gospel  of  the  Kingdom,  but  he 
blesses  the  individual.  He  invites  the  weary 
to  come  to  him  for  rest,  and  the  heavy-laden 
for  strength,  and  the  ignorant  for  wisdom. 
He  accepts  the  invitation  of  the  rich,  but  he 
fails  not  to  recognize  the  temptations  of  the 
rich.  He  declares  the  sorrowing  are  to  be  com- 
forted, the  meek  to  have  the  earth,  the  poor  in 
spirit  Heaven's  Kingdom,  and  the  pure  in 
heart  the  vision  of  God.  His  parables  set 
forth  great  human  lessons  of  growth,  of   effi- 

[57] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

ciency,  of  fellowship,  of  oneness  of  service. 
They  ever  intimate  that  "  the  heart  of  the 
Eternal  is  most  wonderfully  kind."  To  Him 
truth  is  at  once  a  force  and  an  aim;  a  duty, 
a  condition  and  an  ideal.  His  miracles  are 
works  of  healing.  Wonders  are  they  to  be- 
holders, but  to  him  they  are  services.  To  heal, 
to  soothe,  to  inspire,  to  help,  is  his  purpose. 
He  is  righteous  without  self-conscious  holiness, 
faithful  to  duty  without  pride,  compassionate 
without  ^softness  or  weakness,  patient  without 
slowness,  earnest  without  haste,  resisting 
temptation,  —  yet  tender  toward  those  who 
are  tempted.  He  was  so  human,  yet  he  gave 
intimations  of  the  special  divine  callings  and 
relations.  He  declared  he  had  powers  on 
whom  he  might  call  for  aid  in  crises,  yet  he 
died  crucified.  He  raised  the  dead,  yet  he 
allowed  himself  to  die. 

I  speak  not  as  a  theologian:  I  speak  as  your 
friend,  your  fellow-worker.  The  Christ  stands 
forth  as  the  inspirer,  the  helper,  the  King  of 
men.  The  man  who  lives  as  the  Christ  lived, 
who  thinks  as  the  Christ  thought,  who  does 
as  the  Christ  did,  who  is  as  the  Christ  was,  — 
has,  and  must  have,  sympathy,  which  helps 
men  to  live  together  as  brothers.  I  care  not 
whether  he  be  the  Oriental  Christ  or  the  Christ 

[58] 


THE  SOCIAL  PROBLEM 

of  the  Occident,  whether  he  be  the  Christ  of 
the  Calvinist  or  of  the  Arminian,  whether  he  be 
the  Christ  of  the  Middle  Age  or  of  the  Twen- 
tieth Century,  the  spirit,  the  truth,  the  power 
of  the  Christ  would,  and  does,  solve  the  social 
problem. 

Therefore,  sympathy  moving  out  on  the 
great  pathways  of  regard  for  men  as  men, — 
sympathy  going  forth  on  the  great  wings  of 
love,  —  and  sympathy,  incarnate  in  the  man 
inspired  and  moved  by  Christ,  —  sympathy 
would  answer  the  questionings  which  spring 
out  of  the  great  social  conditions  of  our  time. 
If  you  care  for  and  love  men,  and  if  you  care 
for  and  love  men  as  the  Christ  cared  for 
and  loved  them,  there  would  be  no  social 
problem. 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Classes: 

You  have  come  to  the  week  of  your  gradua- 
tion. You  are  going  forth;  going  forth  from 
the  College,  going  forth  into  the  world.  The 
world  into  which  you  go  is  a  bundle  of  complex 
forces  and  of  perplexing  problems.  The  forces 
were  never  so  forceful,  never  so  complex;  the 
problems  never  so  perplexing.  The  problems 
concern  society.  They  concern  the  relation 
of  men  to  men.    These  problems  you  are  to 

[59] 


i 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

) understand.  Your  studies  have  fitted  you  to 
understand.  These  problems  you  are  to  ap- 
preciate; they  are  significant  of  humanity's 
well-being.  Your  studies  have  fitted  you  to 
see  things  as  they  are.  These  problems  you 
are  to  aid  in  solving.  Where  should  humanity 
look  for  aid  in  answer  to  its  great  questions  if 
not  to  the  schools  which  write  "  Light  "  and 
"Truth"  upon  their  shields?  You  are  to  go 
forth  as  human  beings,  —  great,  strong,  high 
in  purpose,  having  passion  yet  free  from  rash- 
ness, of  tireless  patience,  of  undying  determi- 
nation, to  do  your  part  toward  making  over 
the  kingdoms  of  this  earth  into  the  Republic 
of  God,  which  is  the  kingdom  of  perfected  man. 
May  the  Christ  of  God,  and  the  Jesus  of 
man,  help,  bless,  and  keep  you,  every  one. 


[60] 


IV 

SOME  REWARDS  OF  A  COLLEGE 
TRAINING 


Chapter  IV 

SOME  REWARDS 
OF  A  COLLEGE  TRAINING 

[1907] 

"  Happy  is  the  man  that  findeth  wisdom,  and  the  man 
that  getteth  understanding, 

"  For  the  merchandise  of  it  is  better  than  the  mer- 
chandise of  silver,  and  the  gain  thereof  than  fine  gold." — 
Proverbs  iii:  13-14. 

YOUR  college  course  is  ended,  its  work  is 
done,  its  result  for  better  or  for  worse, 
assured.  As  you  thus  stand  with  the 
academic  gate  closing  upon  you,  I  want  to 
point  out  some  of  the  results  which  belong  to  \ 
you  at  the  close  of  these  four  college  years.  | 

Our  text  indicates  that  these  results  are  of 
the  utmost  preciousness.  The  whole  chapter 
whence  are  taken  the  verses  of  our  text  is  a 
song  of  praise  of  the  rewards  of  wisdom.  To 
the  significance  of  some  of  these  rewards  I 
wish  to  call  your  thought. 

The  college  y^ars  are  the  years  of  the  form- 
ing of  friendships.  The  conditions  promote 
personal  intimacies  and  relations.     Hundreds 

[63] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

fere  living  in  the  same  atmosphere,  doing  the 
same  work,  moved  by  the  same  general  aims. 
Likeness  promotes  likingness.  College  life, 
too,  is  very  real.  It  is  free  from  deceits  and 
deceptions.  It  abominates  sham,  it  puts  down 
arrogance;  it  abhors  undue  self-consciousness, 
it  promotes  the  element  of  reality,  the  base  on 
which  friendship  can  rest.  The  college  age, 
too,  is  the  age  of  friendship.  It  is  the  age 
when  the  emotionalism  of  youth  is  passing  over 
into  intellectual  maturity.  The  youth  has  lost 
the  softness  of  character  in  which  friendship 
does  not  last.  He  has  not  come  into  the  hard- 
ness and  unresponsiveness  of  character  in 
which  friendship  does  not  begin.  In  such  a 
soil,  in  which  character  is  receptive  without 
callowness  and  strong  without  indifference, 
friendships  blossom  and  blossom  to  fruitage. 
Absence  from  home,  moreover,  promotes  the 
forming  of  friendships.  The  student  is  flung 
into  new  relations.  He  lives  alone:  he  must 
relate  himself  to  new  friends,  —  a  new  social 
alignment  is  made.  The  result  is  that  next  to 
the  loves  of  the  home,  are  the  affections  of  the 
)  academic  altar. 

The  greatest  poem  of  the  century  is  not  only 
a  poem  great  in  its  consolation,  but  also  in  its 
type  of  college  friendship.     Yet  Tennyson  had 

[64] 


REWARDS  OF  COLLEGE  TRAINING 

other  friends  than  Hallam.  He  lived  with 
Spedding,  who  wrote  the  best  life  of  Bacon, 
with  Milnes,  who  afterwards  was  Lord  Hough- 
ton, with  Trench,  who  became  the  Archbishop 
of  Dublin,  with  Dean  Alford,  with  Merivale, 
the  historian,  and  with  other  men  of  the  same 
great  wealth  of  promise.  To  every  Greek 
boy,  Liddell  and  Scott's  "  Lexicon  "  is  a  Web- 
ster's Dictionary.  The  friendship  of  Liddell 
and  Scott  began  while  they  were  still  under- 
graduates, and  lasted  for  fifty  years.  One  of 
the  greatest  editions  of  the  New  Testament 
ever  issued  is  that  of  Westcott  and  Hort. 
The  friendship  of  these  two  scholars  began  in 
their  early  life  at  Cambridge,  and  lasted  as 
long  as  life  lasted.  And  associated  with  West- 
cott, also,  were  Lightfoot,  the  great  scholar, 
who  became  bishop,  and  Benson,  who  became 
archbishop.  The  biography  of  every  college 
man  contains  records  of  college  friendships. 
Such  friendships  you  are  carrying  out  into 
your  lives.  You  have  made  friends  more 
intimate  and  more  lasting  in  these  four  years  | 
than  you  will  ever  make  in  all  the  rest  of  | 
your  life.  These  are  the  friends  who  call  you  | 
by  your  first  name,  to  whom  you  can  pour  out 
your  soul  without  reserve,  who,  whether  you 
succeed  or  fail,  will  always  be  true  and  with 

[65] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

|vhom  you  will  always  remember  yourself  in 
Ihe  freedom  and  joyfulness  of  youth. 

There  is  also  another  result  you  are  bearing 

I  forth  from  the  college  and  which  might  be 
called  a  friendship.  I  shall  call  it  the  friend- 
ship of  books.  Books  have  been  your  tools, 
your  equipment.  The  book  is  the  symbol  of 
the  college.  I  fear  that  many  of  the  books 
which  you  have  read  have  not  seemed  to  you 
to  be  friends.  But  there  are  books,  you  should 
rememberv,  which  are  or  which  may  become 
friends.  A  book,  like  a  friend,  speaks  to  you, 
argues  with  you,  inspires  your  thinking, 
quickens  your  heart,  confirms  or  annuls  your 
choice,  enriches  your  soul.  A  book  bears  to 
you  messages,  tells  you  a  story,  sings  you  a 
song,  breathes  consolation,  giving  a  garment  of 
praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness.  The  book  is 
the  best  method  for  you  to  enter  into  friend- 
ships with  the  great  souls  of  the  race,  and  also 
with  the  great  soul  of  the  race  itself.  The 
book  reveals  the  lasting  inspirations. 
\  Americans  are  the  newspaper-reading  people 
\  of  the  world.  The  newspaper  habit  is  at 
\  once  good  and  bad.  Good,  for  it  represents 
I  a  knowledge  of  the  immediate,  the  present 
1  world.  It  is  the  world  of  today.  It  is  well 
to  know  the  world  of  today.     Today  and  to- 

[66] 


REWARDS  OF  COLLEGE  TRAINING 

day's  world  is  a  part  of  the  everlasting  tim 
and  a  part  of  the  universe.  But  the  new- 
paper  habit  is  bad  in  that  it  does  not  promote 
a  larger  knowledge  of  today.  It  fails  to  recog- 
nize that  today  came  out  of  yesterday  and  is 
going  to  pass  into  tomorrow.  The  newspaper, 
is  not  comparative;  it  is  descriptive.  It  is\ 
not  interpretative.  It  becomes  more  of  the 
reporter  and  less  of  the  editor.  It  is  not  re- 
flective. The  newspaper  should  become  more 
and  more  a  judgment  day  and  less  of  a  spec- 
tacle. 

Therefore,  I  commend  to  you  the  friendship 
of  books.  Three  types  of  books  do  I  wish  in 
particular  to  commend.  One  type  is  the  es^ay. 
The  essay  stands  for  the  most  artistic  result  of 
prose  composition.  The  essay  represents  in 
the  writer  what  the  diamond  represents  among 
precious  stones.  It  is  a  regular  and  permanent 
form  of  treasure.  The  prose  masters  are 
essayists.  Macaulay,  Carlyle,  De  Quincey, 
Emerson,  Lowell  —  make  these  your  friends. 
They  are  great  companions.  You  can  thus 
walk  with  the  philosopher  along  the  Concord 
streets,  with  the  historian  along  the  banks  of 
the  Thames,  or  with  the  interpreter,  in  quiet 
happiness,  beneath  the  trees  of  Elmwood. 

Yet  more   friendly   than   the   essay   is   the 
[67] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

biograph}^^ for  the  biography  is  the  man  him- 
sdJl  Ah,  these  precious  stories  of  a  life; 
precious  because  the  life  is  precious.  Thus  one 
comes  into  conference  and  communion  with 
the  masters.  These  last  years,  too,  have  given 
these  great  interpreters:  Bismarck  and  Glad- 
stone, Huxley  and  Herbert  Spencer,  Tennyson, 
Browning,  Longfellow  and  the  other  Cambridge 
poets.  These  are  great  friendships,  which  are 
offered  to  you  for  your  knowing,  for  your 
consolation  and  for  your  inspiration. 

But  also  in  this  form  of  friendship  exists 
still  another,  the  friendship  of  great  poetry 
The  friendship  of  great  poetry  is  dearest  be- 
cause poetry  is  the  best  soul,  giving  its  best, 
its  clearest,  highest  and  profoundest  vision, 
its  noblest,  happiest  art.  It  may  be  Words- 
worth whispering  hopes  of  the  deathless  life; 
it  may  be  Shelley  or  Keats,  rare  souls  dwelling 
apart  like  the  star;  or  it  may  be  Browning, 
virile,  humble,  triumphant;  or  it  may  be 
Whittier,  singing  of  the  dear,  simple  New  Eng- 
land life,  or  chanting  some  chant  for  a  noble 
soul,  as  he  did  sing  of  the  first  President  of  this 
College.  Whoever  the  poet  may  be,  his  poem 
offers  to  you  a  friendship,  dearest,  closest, 
best. 

So  long  as  you  have  the  friendships  of  great 
[68] 


REWARDS  OF  COLLEGE  TRAINING 

books,  you  cannot  be  alone.  So  long  as  you 
have  your  library  you  cannot  be  homeless, 
so  long  as  you  drink  the  life-blood  of  master 
spirits,  so  long  you  will  live  and  be  strong. 
Your  soul  may  be  dull  to  music,  your  eyes  may 
never  see  the  soaring  towers  of  Cologne,  you 
may  never  be  one  of  the  little  company  that 
sits  in  silence  in  the  Dresden  Gallery  before 
the  Sistine  Madonna:  such  friendships  may 
be  denied  to  you,  but  richer  friendships, 
holier,  more  constant,  the  friendship  of  the 
great  books  are  yours.  They  are  the  friend- 
ships of  the  college. 

There  is  also  a  third  result  which  you  shoulcy 
bear  away  from  these  college  halls  with  youl 
I  shall  call  it  a  sense  of  proportion.  It  is  tha 
appreciation  of  what  is  worth  while.  It 
stands  for  the  significance  of  the  significant. 
It  represents  interpreting  great  things  as  great 
and  small  things  as  small.  It  is  a  sense  of  | 
judgment  which  has  become  a  part  of  your 
character.  You  have  a  desire  to  succeed. 
The  desire  is  right.  Success,  you  may  say, 
lies  in  your  being  beloved,  in  your  becoming 
rich,  in  your  winning  distinction  in  the  field  of 
public  service.  Success  may  lie  in  forms  of 
results  more  or  less  material.  I  want  you  to 
know  that  for  success  you  may  pay  a  price  too 

[69] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

high.  What  you  give  for  success  may  be 
worth  more  than  success  itself.  In  this  great 
struggle  for  what  we  call  success,  the  struggle 
never  more  intense  than  today,  a  struggle  no- 
where more  intense  than  in  America,  there 
are  some  conditions  to  which  this  sense  of 
proportion  should  be  especially  applied.  One 
of  them  is  work  and  leisure.  I  might  preach 
to  you  the  gospel  of  work  as  does  Carlyle  and 
as  the  niodern  man  preaches.  It  is  a  good 
gospel.  It  belongs  to  the  first  Chapter  of 
Genesis;  I  might  also  preach  to  you  the  gospel 
of  leisure,  of  a  leisure  that  is  appreciative  by 
reason  of  work,  and  that  aids  one  to  appreciate 
work  itself. 

Leisure  without  labor  is  idleness,  work 
without  leisure  is  drudgery.  Either  is  bad. 
Work  with  leisure  is  contentment,  self-ap- 
probation, usefulness;  leisure  with  work  is 
recreation,  happiness,  restfulness.  Keep  the 
proportion. 

The  same  sense  of  appreciation  is  also  to 
be  applied  to  wealth  and  competency.  The 
struggle  for  wealth  is  not  so  much  of  a  struggle 
for  money  as  a  struggle  for  power.  Some  one 
says  of  Disraeli  that  he  did  not  care  for  wealth 
and  for  fame,  but  for  power.  The  mere  desire 
for    accumulation    has    lessened.    The    miser 

[70] 


REWARDS  OF  COLLEGE  TRAINING 

seems  to  have  passed  out  of  life  both  in  fact 
and  in  fiction.  But  the  community  is  becom- 
ing keenly  alive  to  the  monarchy  of  money. 
The  community  is  blindly  feeling  its  way  to 
the  deposing  of  this  monarch,  as  it  has  debased 
the  political  and  civil  monarch.  The  struggle 
for  wealth  is  a  very  costly  struggle.  It  costs 
most  men  too  much.  It  costs  most  men 
health,  it  costs  most  men  friendships,  it  costs 
most  men  large  appreciations,  noble  relation- 
ships and  breadth  of  living.  It  costs  most  men 
home.  I  am  not  here  to  preach  the  gospel 
of  poverty.  Neither  poverty  nor  wealth  is 
desirable  for  most.  The  temptations  of  each 
condition  are  hard;  which  are  the  harder  I 
know  not.  But  I  do  preach  the  gospel  of 
proportion.  A  competency  which  shall  indeed 
be  competent,  enough  that  shall  be  enough, 
not  too  much,  not  too  small,  that  represents  the 
golden  mean  of  Aristotle.  The  temperate 
zone,  one  half  way  between  the  arctic  of 
limitation  and  the  tropical  of  undue  luxuriance, 
represents  the  proper  sphere. 

Moreover,  in  a  still  broader  relation,  is  the 
sense  of  proportion  to  be  applied  to  what  may 
be  called  the  sphere  of  self-interest  and  of 
public  occupation.  You  are  yourself.  To 
yourself  you  owe  duties.    These  two  sets  of 

[71] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

duties  are  to  be  thoroughly  and  fairly  ad- 
justed. If  you  live  for  yourself,  you  live  for 
an  object  very  unworthy!  If  you  live  for  a 
community,  neglecting  yourself,  the  life  thus 
lived  is  not  a  life  which  the  community  wants. 
You  are  to  live  for  yourself,  to  make  that  self 
rich,  strong,  vigorous,  great,  and  this  self  you 
are  to  give  to  the  great  common  life  of 
the  people.  Ah,  for  a  life  that  is  great 
in  itself,  and  just  as  great  out  of  itself; 
so  great'  out  of  itself  because  it  is  so  great  in 
itself. 

This  sense  of  proportion,  of  adjustment,  of 
appreciation,  of  the  worth  while,  is  a  most 
precious  heritage  given  by  the  college  to  its 
sons  and  daughters. 

The  fourth  result,  and  the  last  that  I  shall 
name  which  the  college  should  give,  is  the 
sense  of  the  presence  of  God  as  a  part  of  your 
life.  I  am  not  speaking  as  a  theologian,  I  am 
speaking  as  an  interpreter.  It  is  impossible 
for  a  man  not  to  be  always  praying,  says 
Emerson.  I  assume  that  you  believe  in  a 
God.  I  must  infer  that  God  is  a  different  being 
for  different  men*  The  subjective  power  of 
knowing,  of  understanding  God,  differs.  Each 
man,  therefore,  may  be  said  to  have  his  own 
God.     You  may  call  God  by  diverse  names, 

[72] 


REWARDS  OF  COLLEGE  TRAINING 

you  may  worship  him  in  diverse  ways,  you  may 
interpret  him  in  diverse  forms.  To  one  he 
may  be  an  Over-Soul,  the  great  spirit  above 
all  and  around  all,  as  the  firmament  is  above 
and  around  the  earth.  To  one  he  may  be  the 
Unknown  and  Unknowable,  but  the  one,  also, 
whom  we  are  ever  seeking  to  know.  To  one  he 
may  be  the  infinite  force,  which  enters  into 
finite  relations,  but  whose  essence  is  still  hidden 
from  the  eye  and  the  heart  of  man.  To  one 
he  may  be  absolute  truth,  whom  man  is  to 
seek  to  know;  to  one  the  absolute  person;  to 
one,  as  to  Leslie  Stephen,  the  Divine  Good- 
ness; to  one  the  Father,  the  Son  and  the 
Holy  Ghost  whom  one  is  to  worship;  one 
eternal  life,  moving  in  time  and  in  the  presence 
of  men.  But  by  whatever  name  he  is  called, 
under  whatever  form  he  is  worshipped,  that 
being  is  to  be  recognized  as  having  relations  to 
your  being.  His  presence  is  to  be  interpreted 
as  present  to  you. 

I  seldom  rise  and  conduct  the  service  of 
prayers  of  the  morning  of  a  college  day,  in 
each  of  these  four  years,  without  reflecting  on 
the  diversity  of  beliefs  and  the  variety  of 
experiences  to  which  I  know  I  am  to  minister. 
Some  before  me  are  born  in  the  historic  faith 
known    as    the    Roman    Catholic,    some    are 

[73] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

adherents  of  the  faith  of  the  Old  Testament; 
some  are  members  of  Protestant  churches  of 
various  names;  some  are  without  ecclesiastical 
affiliations.  I  feel  that  as  I  thus  conduct  a 
service  for  all,  my  words  should  express  or 
intimate  beliefs  in  which  all  can  unite.  I,  for 
one,  believe  more  than  I  say,  and  believe,  of 
course,  all  I  say.  I  wish  for  each  to  assent  to 
all  that  is  said,  knowing,  of  course,  that  each 
believes  more  or  other  than  is  said,  and  also 
knowing  that  this  overplus  of  belief  is  not  a 
common  belief.  The  belief  common  to  all  is 
the  belief  in  a  God,  in  a  God  who  is  personal,  — 
in  a  God  who  loves  men,  —  in  a  God  who  has 
made  a  revelation  of  himself,  —  in  a  God  in 
whom  we  live,  —  who  is  our  origin,  —  in  a 
God  in  whom  we  move,  - —  who  is  our  strength, 
—  in  a  God  in  whom  we  have  our  being, —  who 
is  our  present  and  eternal  destiny.  The 
thought  of  such  a  God  saves  life  from  material- 
ism, the  worship  of  such  a  God  saves  life  from 
sordidness,  the  love  of  such  a  God  saves  life 
from  selfishness,  and  the  service  of  such  a  God 
saves  life  from  its  own  annihilation. 

There  died,  in  the  first  calendar  month  of 
this  year,  one  who  had  for  a  generation  been 
a  teacher  in  this  historic  college.  How  dear 
Professor  Potwin  unites  and  illustrates  what 

[74] 


REWARDS  OF  COLLEGE  TRAINING 

I  have  been  trying  to  say.  He  was  a  college 
man.  College  friendships  formed  more  than 
fifty  years  ago  he  bore  through  his  life.  Within 
these  last  days,  I  have  read  a  letter  from  one  of 
his  students,  himself  bearing  a  distinguished 
name,  of  respect  and  of  affection  for  this  dear 
teacher.  He  knew  the  friendship  of  great 
books.  You,  his  students,  remember  how  inti- 
mate he  seemed  with  the  masters.  His  sense 
of  proportion  was  keen.  His  leisure  and  his 
work  were  joined  together  in  fitting  harmony. 
The  forces  of  his  life  were  both  static  and 
dynamic.  His  communion  with  his  God  was 
as  constant  as  it  was  deep.  Like  Enoch,  he 
walked  with  God  and  he  was  not,  for  God 
took  him. 

May  we  not  also  find  in  that  life,  which  has 
given  name  to  the  Christian  faith,  intimations 
of  the  presence  of  these  greatest  rewards? 
Christ's  disciples  became  friends.  The  teacher 
and  the  master  was,  toward  the  close  of  his 
service,  pleased  to  call  all  these  pupils  his 
friends  and  to  regard  himself  as  their  great 
lover.  The  Christ  also  knew  that  book,  the 
Old  Testament,  which  unites  the  history, 
biography  and  poem  as  no  other  book  does 
unite.  The  Christ  also  possessed  the  sense  of 
appreciation.     Life    was    to    him    more    than 

[75] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

living,  the  body  than  raiment,  the  soul  than 
the  body.  Above  all,  the  Christ  dwelt  in  the 
presence  of  his  God,  "  I  and  my  father  are  one." 
The  Christ  bore  forth  from  boyhood  into 
manhood  and  bore  through  life  the  great  ele- 
ment of  friendship,  of  truth,  of  appreciation 
and  of  the  divine  presence. 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Classes: 

Endowed  you  are  by  nature,  let  me  say, 
above  mbst.  Endowed  you  are  by  the  college. 
Richer  tonight  must  seem  this  endowment 
than  ever  before.  These  friendships,  as  you 
stand  side  by  side,  make  an  appeal  more 
tender,  more  loving,  than  they  ever  have  made. 
The  wealth  of  truth,  the  power  of  inspiration 
of  the  noblest  books;  —  material  gold  is  as 
iron  as  compared  to  this  wealth.  The  appre- 
ciation of  values,  the  sense  of  proportion; 
what  guardianship  therein  lies  against  the 
cheap,  the  mean,  the  unworthy!  What  an 
inspiration  therein  is  found  to  buy  that  which 
is  indeed  the  bread  of  life!  The  sense  of  God, 
the  constant  presence  of  the  divine,  the  dwelling 
in  the  eternal  now,  how  full  of  rapture  the 
privilege!  Great,  great,  my  sons  and  my 
daughters,  is  your  inheritance;  rich  is  your 
endowment,  noble  is  your  circumstance  and 

[76] 


REWARDS  OF  COLLEGE  TRAINING 

condition.  Bow  your  heads,  humble  your 
hearts  in  gratitude;  sing  your  hallelujah  of 
thanksgiving,  for  the  Lord  has  been  good  to 
you. 


[77] 


V 

THE  NEEDS  OF  AMERICAN  LIFE 

WHICH  THE  COLLEGE  AND  THE 

COLLEGE  GRADUATE 

SHOULD  FILL 


Chapter  V 

THE  NEEDS  OF  AMERICAN  LIFE 
WHICH  THE  COLLEGE  AND  THE  COL- 
LEGE GRADUATE  SHOULD  FILL 

[1908] 

*'  I  am  come  that  they  might  have  life,  and  that  they 
might  have  it  more  abundantly." —  John  x  :  10. 

LIFE  is  life's  supreme  interest.  With- 
out it  nothing  is  possible;  with  it,  all. 
American  life  is  the  supreme  interest  of 
America.  That  life  is  full,  progressive,  intense, 
ambitious,  imperfect.  One  of  its  glories  may- 
be called  its  imperfections.  For  there  is  a 
"  glory  of  the  imperfect." 

What,  therefore,  are  some  of  the  needs  of 
American   society.^     What  are  some  of  thescB 
needs  which  the  college  and  its  graduates  may" 
fill.? 

(1)  The  first  need  to  which  I  wish  to  call 
your    attention    is    the    need    of    intellectual! 
accuracy,  moral  honesty,  and  ethical  sincerity.  | 
These   words    may   be   comprehended   in   one 
word,  —  truthfulness.     Truthfulness  is  a  spirit, 
^   mood,   an  atmosphere,  of  the  whole  man. 

[81] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

Truth  becomes  truthfulness  when  it  has  passed 
through  the  laboratory  of  the  heart  and  the 
will,  and  passed  into  the  whole  constitution. 
The  intellect  is  in  peril  of  not  seeing.  The 
intellect  does  not  see  because  it  does  not  look. 
It  does  not  see  because  it  is  near-sighted  and 
astigmatic.  The  intellect  is  in  part  blind, — 
an  internal  state.  The  intellect  is  in  part 
blinded,  —  an  outward  condition.  The  out- 
side world  gives  it  more  light  than  it  can 
absorb,  6r  it  fails  to  give  it  sufficient  light. 
Even  if  the  facts  be  seen  accurately  and  re- 
ported as  they  are,  the  reasoning  upon  these 
facts  may  be  illogical  and  the  inferences  un- 
sound. The  word  "  about "  as  an  adverb 
is  significant.  A  thing  is  about  true,  about 
right.  The  need  is  of  absolute  truth — of 
absolute  right. 

To  the  filling  of  this  need  the  college  graduate 
should  make  a  special  ofi'ering.  The  graduate 
is  set  to  see  things  as  they  are;  to  see  things 

Iin  relation;  to  see  things  in  proportion.  The 
college  graduate  is  trained  to  reason;  to  find 
sound  premises;  to  rise  through  logical  proc- 
esses from  these  premises  to  correct  conclu- 
sions. He  is  trained  to  detect  and  to  discard 
fallacies.  He  knows  that  the  terms  of  rea- 
soning should  be  exact;  that  the  middle  term 

182] 


THE   NEEDS   OF   AMERICAN   LIFE 

should  be  always  distributed,  and  the  con- 
clusion should  contain  no  more  and  no  less 
than  the  premises.  His  study  of  formal  logic 
has  helped  him  to  rational  processes.  His 
study  of  the  ancient  classics  has  given  him 
discrimination,  judiciousness,  judicialness.  His 
study  of  mathematics  has  trained  in  him  a 
sense  of  the  certainty  of  absolute  truth,  as 
the  study  of  all  human  sciences  has  given 
him  a  sense  of  the  uncertainty  of  all  truth 
which  is  not  absolute.  Economics  has  taught 
him  the  complexity  of  human  phenomena,  his- 
tory the  vastness  and  variety  of  human  expe- 
rience, and  philosophy  the  mysteriousness  of 
his  own  existence.  Literature  of  every  order 
and  age  has  trained  him  into  appreciations 
intellectual,  aesthetic  and  ethical. 

The  graduate  who  is  thus  trained,  disciplined, 
instructed,  enriched,  should  help  to  fill  this 
need  in  American  life  of  truthfulness.  In 
himself  he  is  an  example  of  one  who  can  see 
straight  and  think  clear.  His  speech  should  be 
truthful  because  of  straight  seeing  and  clear 
thinking.  His  temper  and  temperament  should 
be  truthful  because  he  has  learned  that  all 
deception  is  outlawed,  and  inartistic.  His 
moral  nature  as  well  as  his  intellectual  declares 
that  exaggeration  breaks  the  law  of  proportion 

[83] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

and  harmony,  that  all  dissimulation  is  unjust 
and  ungentlemanly,  that  all  minimizing  of  the 
truth  is  a  minimizing  of  himself  both  in  cause 
and  result.  He  has  learned  not  only,  as 
Emerson  says,  that  the  superlative  weakens, 
but  also  that  the  superlative  deceives.  He  has 
learned,  too,  that  the  positive  is  not  only  the 
strongest  in  will,  but  also  the  clearest  in  and 
to  the  intellect.  Therefore,  the  American 
college  graduate — the  man  of  truth,  and  of 
truthfulness  —  helps  to  fill  this  need  of  the 
American  community. 
I  (2)  American  life  also  stands  in  need  of 
I  poise,  of  steadiness.  It  is  easily  moved.  Its 
'interests  are  quickly  stirred.  There  is  in  it  a 
good  deal  of  solid  and  substantial  EngUsh 
immobility.  One  sees  such  immobility  in 
those  parts  where  the  English  tradition  most 
obtains.  But  also,  American  life  is  imbued 
with  a  keen  sense  of  French  mobility  and 
excitement.  I  apprehend  that  this  element  of 
mobiUty  and  excitement  has  been  derived  in  a 
large  degree  from  our  climate.  Our  climate 
has  done  more  for  us  of  evil  and  of  good  than 
we  usually  believe.  It  has  given  us  energy, 
push,  aggressiveness.  But  it  has  also  given 
us  restlessness,  undue  eagerness,  vaulting  am- 
bitiousness.     It  has  transformed  the  old  Eng- 

[84] 


THE   NEEDS   OF  AMERICAN   LIFE 

land  muscle  into  New  England  nerve,  nerve 
has  become  nerves,  and  nerves  nervousness. 

I  do  not  believe  that  the  college  can  change 
the  American  climate;  but  the  college  can 
enhance  the  good  effects  of  this  climate,  and 
help  to  remedy  the  bad.  The  college  graduate 
should  give  steadiness  and  poise,  because  of  the* 
steadiness  and  poise  of  his  own  character./ 
For  the  graduate  has  been  trained  unto 
discrimination.  He  has  been  led  to  see  what 
is  important  and  what  unimportant,  what 
significant  and  what  insignificant.  He  has 
learned  to  try  to  appreciate  the  great  as  great, 
the  small  as  small,  the  abiding  as  abiding,  and 
the  transient  as  passing.  When  he  sees  the 
clouds  moving  he  does  not  fear  the  heavens 
will  vanish.  Discrimination  leads  to  an  appre- 
ciation of  relations.  Discrimination  and  a 
sense  of  relations  lead  to  confidence  in  the 
truth  and  in  the  eternal  forces  of  being.  The 
understanding  of  the  laws  of  existence  leads 
to  a  trust  in  these  laws.  Catastrophes  and 
cataclysms  do  occur,  but  the  sun  rises  at  its 
appointed  time  and  place  each  day,  and  the 
stars  keep  their  tryst  with  the  astronomer. 
Every  summer  brings  growth  and  blossom, 
every  autumn  fruitage  and  harvest.  The 
discriminations  of  the  intellect  give  calmness 

[85] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

to  the  heart,  and  a  sense  of  large  relations 
strength  to  the  will.  Discrimination  leads  to 
appreciation,  and  appreciation  seems  to  be  an 
act  or  a  mood  in  which  every  part  of  one's 
being  has  a  share.  This  appreciation  repre- 
sents a  certain  judicial  quaHty  in  intellect 
which  leads  to  a  certain  judicious  element  in 
character  and  conduct. 

^  The  college  graduate  has  also  been  trained 
fin  a  sense  of  self-restraint.  Self-restraint  is  a 
function  of  the  will.  It  represents  calmness 
when  one  is  tempted  to  be  impetuous;  humility 
when  one  is  tempted  to  be  arrogant;  reti- 
cence when  the  provocation  is  to  speak.  But 
self-restraint  is  more  than  a  function  of  the  will. 
It  stands  for  the  simplicity,  quietness  and 
soberness  of  the  gentleman.  It  is  remote  from 
bumptiousness,  extravagance,  and  what  in 
both  metaphor  and  fact  is  called  loudness. 
Such  a  quality  the  college  trains.  Every 
study  enhances  its  value.  The  study  of  lan- 
guages trains  it  through  the  discrimination 
which  they  represent.  Mathematics  trains 
the  quality  by  its  lessons  of  absolute  truth  and 
man's  consequent  humility.  The  sciences  also 
train  it  by  their  teachings  of  the  breadth  and 
diversity  of  natural  phenomena  and  by  the 
apparent    limitations    of    man's    knowledge. 

[86] 


THE  NEEDS  OF  AMERICAN  LIFE 

History  trains  this  element  by  its  examples  of 
nations  and  of  men,  who  have  perished  through 
the  foolish  expenditure  of  human  forces.  Liter- 
ature and  economics  also  train  it  through  the 
gentle  humanizing  influence  of  the  one,  and 
through  the  profound  moral  reflections  upon 
the  phenomena  of  the  race  of  the  other,  subject. 
Philosophy,  also,  cannot  fail  to  develop  self- 
restraint  through  the  search  for  truth  of  man. 
Self-restraint,  however,  is  never  to  become 
atrophy,  or  self-negation.  It  represents  re- 
pression at  one  point,  in  order  to  gain  force  in 
another.  It  is  the  dam  built  to  give  greater 
power  to  the  pent-up  stream.  It  is  the 
jumper  going  back  in  order  to  leap  a  longer 
length.  This  man  of  self-restraint  is  the  man 
of  poise  and  of  steadiness. 

The  college,  therefore,  training  men  of  dis-i^ 
crimination  and  of  self-restraint,  helps  to  fill  i 
a  great  need  of  this  exciting  and  excitable  life 
of  ours. 

(3)  American  life  is  also  in  need  of  the  inde-  \ 
pendence  of  the  individual.  There  should  be  \ 
a  new  declaration  of  independence,  —  it  is  the 
independence  of  the  single  man.  This  need 
of  independence  is  largely  industrial  and  com- 
mercial. The  peril  is  that  the  independence 
of  the  individual  will  become  lost.     This  in- 

[87] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

dependence  is  the  result  of  a  long  and  hard 
struggle.  In  it  is  heard  the  conflict  of  Greece 
against  the  East,  in  which  Greece  won,  and 
which  struggle  helped  in  its  triumph  to  create 
modern  civilization.  In  it  are  felt  the  throbbing 
passions  of  the  first  Christian  centuries,  in 
which  new  and  unknown  forces  of  the  North 
met  and  mingled  with  the  old  and  new  forces 
of  the  Empire  in  the  valleys  of  Italy,  on  the 
plains  of  Spain,  and  on  the  banks  of  the  Danube 
and  the  Rhine.  In  it  is  still  recognized  the  ver- 
dict of  the  Protestant  Reformation  of  the 
responsibilities  and  rights  of  the  individual, 
before  his  God  and  before  his  brethren.  Into 
it,  too,  and  more  closely,  are  wrought  the  con- 
clusions of  the  Puritan  movement  of  three 
hundred  years  ago.  I  cannot  believe  that 
this  doctrine  of  the  independence  of  the 
individual  the  American  world  is  easily  to 
surrender.  But  the  peril  is  on.  It  is  the 
peril  industrial,  commercial.  On  the  one  side 
the  labor  union,  on  the  other  the  so-called 
trust:  the  labor  union  demanding,  I  shall 
not  sell  my  labor  at  less  than  a  certain  price; 
the  trust  requiring,  I  shall  not  sell  my  products 
below  a  certain  value;  the  labor  union  demand- 
ing of  me  not  to  labor  on  penalty  of  forfeiture 
of  my  social  freedom;  the  trust  ordering  me  to 

[  88  ] 


THE   NEEDS   OF   AMERICAN   LIFE 

sell  my  property  or  making  it  impossible  for 
me  to  buy  my  materials  or  to  transport  my 
products;  the  labor  union  in  some  cases 
apparently  putting  a  price  upon  my  head  ;  the 
trust  apparently  in  some  cases  killing  my 
business.  Such  is  the  difference  between  the 
upper  millstone  of  the  combination  of  capital, 
and  the  lower  millstone  of  the  combination  of 
labor.  The  ordinary  man,  non-union,  who 
wishes  to  work,  or  the  merchant  who  wishes  to 
use  his  money  if  he  have  any,  or  to  get  some 
if  he  have  none,  is  in  peril  of  being  ground  to 
pieces. 

Let  us  not  deny  the  value  of  industrial  and 
social  groups.  Let  us  acknowledge  that  one 
has  the  right  to  give  up  his  rights.  Let  us 
confess  that  it  may  be  a  duty  to  surrender 
rights.  Let  us  affirm  that  individuals  are 
more  important  than  the  individual.  Let  us 
allow  that  the  world's  work  can  no  longer  be 
done  by  single  individuals.  That  work  has  be- 
come so  tremendous,  so  long  continued  in  plan 
and  performance,  so  widespread,  so  complex, 
so  costly.  But  though  acknowledging  all 
this,  let  it  also  be  declared  that  the  industrial 
freedom  of  the  individual  should  be  preserved, 
his  rights  granted,  his  duties  respected.  Let 
us  demand  that  the  single  man  shall,  in  the 

[89] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

game  of  industrial  competition,  have  the  cards 
dealt  out  in  fairness,  that  his  playing  shall  not 
be  interfered  with,  and  that  the  rules  of  the 
game  shall  be  obeyed. 

To  such  a  complex  and  perplexing  condition 
the  college  graduate  may  worthily  give  him- 
self. He^h^s  been  trained  as  an  individual. 
The  most  individual  intellectual  training 
given  the  world  is  given  in  the  American  college. 
The  graduate  has  lived  in  a  college,  in  a  col- 
lection of  men,  in  a  community.  But  he  has 
also  lived  as  an  individual.  He  has  been 
respected  as  an  individual.  He  comes  forth 
from  the  college  gates  upon  his  own  feet  as  an 
individual.  The  better  the  training  he  has 
received  the  more  individual  he  is.  Therefore, 
he  is  fitted  to  represent  the  independence  of 
the  individual,  and  to  conserve  those  forces  in 
American  life  which  make  for  independence. 

But  while  one  thus  declares  for  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  individual,  there  is  also  a  need 
of  American  life  which  appeals  to  the  graduate, 

t—  it  IS  the  need  of  great  human  feelings  and 
elationships.  As  civilization  becomes  older 
it  becomes  more  complex.  As  it  becomes  more 
complex  it  becomes  more  diversified,  more 
stratified,  more  classified.  American  civiliza- 
tion gaining  in  age,  gaining  in  complexity,  is 

[  90  ] 


THE   NEEDS   OF   AMERICAN   LIFE 

also  increasing  in  its  spirit  of  caste.  Against 
any  spirit  of  caste  the  college  graduate  should 
be  set  as  solidly  as  a  Chinese  wall,  and  as  firm 
as  Gibraltar's  rock.  In  both  his  humor  and 
his  wit  he  must  see  the  silliness  of  the  petty 
divisions  which  separate.  He  can  at  once 
laugh  over  them,  and  also  swear  at  them. 
History  has  taught  him  that  our  little  societies 
have  their  day,  —  have  their  day  and  cease 
to  be.  But  also,  his  theology  and  his  philoso- 
phy have  taught  him  that  these  societies  are 
but  broken  lights  of  God,  and  that  God  is 
more  than  they.  His  study  of  the  social 
sciences  has  made  plain  that  society  is  one, 
and  that  each  part  depends  upon  every  other. 
He  may,  or  he  may  not,  be  humanistic,  but 
let  him  be  at  least  humane.  Even  he  may 
not  be  humane  —  though  I  cannot  think  he 
should  not  be,  —  but  at  least  he  should  be 
human.  The  humanistic  studies  and  the 
humane  strivings  and  conduct  have  served  to 
broaden,  deepen,  and  lift  humanity. 

The  college  man  is  trained  unto  humanness 
by  reason  of  comprehensive  intellectual  vision 
and  understanding.  The  educated  man  knows 
that  truth  is  not  a  straight  line  of  two  sides; 
it  is  a  polygon,  —  it  is  a  circle,  —  it  has  an 
infinite    number   of   sides.     College   trains    a 

[91] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

I  man  to  the  largest  vision  and  understanding 
'of  which  he  is  capable.  The  association  of 
fellows  with  each  other  is  one  source  of  such 
training.  Men  of  diverse  origin,  —  geographic, 
domestic,  pecuniary  and  social,  —  mingle.  The 
angle  of  the  vision  of  truth  and  of  duty  varies. 
What  to  one  is  true  seems  to  another  false;  to 
one  expedient,  to  another  necessary;  to  one 
morally  wrong,  to  another  morally  right. 
Associations,  intimate  and  prolonged,  with 
men  of  diverse  origin,  give  to  the  student  a 
comprehensiveness  of  intellectual  understand- 
ing and  outlook.  Largeness  of  view  is  not  to 
be  bought  by  hazy  indefiniteness  of  interpre- 
tation. If  comprehensiveness  be  large  in  out- 
look, it  is  still  to  be  clear  in  articulation. 
Certain  studies  specially  promote  such  in- 
tellectual comprehensiveness.  This  is  one  of 
the  superb  results  of  the  study  of  history.  If 
history  be  interpreted  as  a  record  of  events, 
the  bare  record  disciplines  intellectual  breadth. 
If  history  be  interpreted  as  a  record  of  certain 
relations,  causes,  results,  it  trains  the  highest 
forces  of  mind.  The  man  of  comprehensive 
mind  is  the  man  who  declines  to  accept  his 
own  judgment  as  the  only  judgment,  or  his  own 
interpretation  as  the  only  interpretation.  He 
knows  there  are  other  judgments  and  other 

192] 


THE   NEEDS   OF   AMERICAN   LIFE 

interpretations.  These  his  moral  impulse 
prompts  him  to  learn.  Such  learning  rep- 
resents intellectual  comprehensiveness  and 
breadth  of  understanding  which  do  lead  to 
the  largest  humanness. 

A  friend  tells  me  that  in  the  year  1874 
Jowett,  Master  of  Balliol,  said  to  him  that  he 
had  made  a  point  of  introducing  all  new  men 
of  Balliol  to  the  older.  Such  introduction 
aided  the  older  in  helping  the  younger.  And 
he  regarded  this  custom  as  one  of  the  causes 
of  the  great  success  of  the  men  of  Balliol.  A 
Western  Reserve  man,  in  traveling,  said  to  me 
that  wherever  he  met  a  Reserve  man  he  made 
a  friend.  Good,  very  good.  But  also,  grad- 
uates, wherever  you  meet  a  human  being, 
know  that  he  belongs  to  you,  that  you  belong 
to  him;  that  you  are  of  his  set,  and  he  of  yours, 
because  you  both  are  human.  Great  men  are 
great  humans.  Be  great  in  your  simple  hu- 
manity!   Help  to  keep  American  life  human. 

(4)  Furthermore,  and  in  the  fourth  place, — 
our  life  in  America  is  in  need  of  a  new  baptism 
of  idealism.  This  life  of  ours  is  a  singular 
union  of  idealism  and  of  materialism.  What 
is  materialism.^  What  is  idealism?  Material- 
ism is  the  living  in  and  for  what  the  eye  sees, 
the  hands  handle,  the  ear  hears.     It  is  the  lust 

[93] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  the  pride  of 
physical  being.  It  is  living  for  the  now,  for 
the  here.  Materialism  is  living.  What  is 
idealism.^  Idealism  is  living  in  the  unseen, 
for  the  unheard,  for  the  unfelt.  It  is  living 
for  the  eternal  and  the  far-off.  Idealism  is 
life.  Idealism  is  the  idea  made  a  goal  of 
struggle  and  of  perfection.  There  is  much  in 
American  life  which  naturally  promotes  ma- 
terialism. America  is  a  new  land,  and  a  new 
nation  is  the  American.  Things  material  make 
a  forceful,  and  to  many  the  most  forceful, 
appeal  in  a  new  settlement.  The  soil  must  be 
planted,  harvests  reaped;  the  water  must  be 
harnessed,  and  mill  wheels  set.  The  trappers' 
trail  must  become  a  path,  the  path  a  road,  the 
road  an  avenue.  Houses  must  be  built,  homes, 
cities  created;  all  the  conditions  for  living 
provided.  Picture  this  very  spot  a  hundred 
years  ago  tonight.  Forest  and  fields  were 
spread  out,  where  are  now  tens  of  thousands 
of  homes.  The  pioneers'  long,  white-hooded, 
slow-moving  wagon  was  winding  its  way  along 
corduroy  roads,  where  tonight  speeds  the 
electric  car  and  carriage.  Let  us  never  de- 
preciate the  absolute  need  of  the  construction 
of  the  materialities  of  any  civilization. 

But  let  us  also  know  that  in  any  civilization 
[94] 


THE   NEEDS   OF   AMERICAN   LIFE 

are  more  than  materialities.  The  Pilgrims 
came  to  the  sandy,  low-lying  coast  of  Plym- 
outh to  make  a  living;  but  they  also  came 
moved  by  great  ideals.  Among  the  ideals 
which  moved  them,  says  their  historian  Brad- 
ford, was  the  hope  of  extending  the  Kingdom 
of  God.  Such  a  hope  needs  to  be  taken  by  the 
American  people  as  an  ideal.  We  need  to 
think  less  of  getting  on,  and  more  of  getting 
up.  We  need  to  think,  if  not  less  of  doing 
something  for  America,  at  least  more  of 
doing  something  for  the  world  as  the  field 
of  the  divine  reign.  We  need  to  live  less  for 
what  the  outer  eye  may  see,  and  more  for  the 
vision  of  things  unseen.  We  need  to  live  less 
for  what  shall  delight  the  sense,  and  more  for 
what  shall  satisfy  the  sensibilities;  less  for  the 
fancy,  and  more  for  the  imagination;  less  for 
admiration,  and  more  for  reverence;  less  for 
the  picturesque,  more  for  the  beautiful;  less 
for  the  pretty,  more  for  the  sublime;  less  for  the 
present,  more  for  the  "  eternal  now." 

In  the  promotion  of  such  a  life,  in  filling 
such  a  need  in  America,  you  graduates  are  to 
bear  a  large  part.  From  both  religion  and 
science  you  have  learned  that  the  things  seen 
are  temporal,  and  the  things  unseen  eternal. 
You  have  learned  to  find  satisfaction  in  truth, 

[95] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

and  not  in  treasure;  in  duty,  not  in  dollars. 
You  have  learned  that  life's  richest  content- 
ments lie  in  service — in  helpfulness;  in  being 
pure,  in  speaking  true,  in  righting  wrong,  in 
following  visions.  "  Don't  get  rich,"  wrote  a 
college  boy  from  his  camp  forty  years  ago  and 
more,  to  his  friend,  a  Boston  boy.  You  have 
learned  already  that  riches  cannot  represent 
life's  best  results.  You,  having  faith  in  God, 
faith  in  your  eternal  self,  faith  in  noble  hu- 
manity, faith  in  truth,  and  faith  in  service, 
shall  lift  our  new  material  and  materialistic 
life  into  a  high  and  higher  idealism  than  Greece 
ever  knew,  and  of  which  Palestine  was  at  once 
fulfillment,  potency,  and  promise. 

I  am'  come  that  they  might  have  life,  and 
that  they  might  have  it  more  abundantly." 
Like  a  piece  of  music  returns  our  text  upon  it- 
self. These  needs  of  American  life  of  which  I 
have  spoken  are  the  needs  which  Christ's  life 
and  Christ's  character  fill.  Christ  calls  Him- 
self the  Truth.  "  I  am  the  Way,  the  Truth." 
Christ  declares  Himself  the  giver  of  peace. 
"  My  peace  I  give  unto  you."  Christ  stands 
for  self.  "  I,"  "  I,"  "  I,"—  is  the  emphatic 
word  in  His  utterance.  Christ  represents 
humanity.  "  Behold  the  man."  Christ  repre- 
sents life  in  its  fullest  and  most  idealistic  state, 

[96] 


THE   NEEDS   OF   AMERICAN   LIFE 

"  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the  earth,  will  draw- 
all  men  unto  me." 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Classes: 

Little  more  need  I  say  to  you,  my  dear 
friends  and  co-workers.  By  you,  as  well  as 
for  you,  I  wish  the  purposes  of  Christ's  coming 
may  be  fully  and  finally  fulfilled.  May  you 
have  life,  and  may  you  have  life  more  and  most 
abundant.  For  such  abundant  life,  America 
calls.  America  calls  for  your  largest  appre- 
ciation of  truth.  America  calls  for  your 
calmness  and  poise.  America  calls  for  your 
noblest  independence.  America  calls  for  a 
great  human  sense  in  you  as  well.  America 
calls  for  a  noble,  vision  of  the  ideal.  May 
these  calls  be  met  in  your  character,  and  in 
your  service.  Give  to  our  country  your  best  — 
your  all.  Give  your  best,  and  give  your  all, 
in  the  name  of  God,  for  the  sake  of  universal 
brotherhood. 


[97] 


VI 
BEING  RICH  WITHOUT  RICHES 


Chapter  VI 

BEING    RICH   WITHOUT   RICHES 

[1909] 
"  Poor,  yet  hath  great  riches." —  Proverbs  xiii :  7. 

THE  nation  is  becoming  keenly  aware 
of  the  duty  of  the  preservation  of  its 
natural  resources.  The  President  of 
the  United  States  and  the  governors  of  in- 
dividual states  call  conventions  to  increase 
knowledge  and  to  quicken  enthusiasm  in  the 
great  undertaking.  Commissions  are  ap- 
pointed to  devise  methods  and  to  execute 
measures.  Apparently  some  of  nature's  prod- 
ucts cannot  be  restored  by  the  ordinary  opera- 
tion of  ordinary  forces.  Harvest  fields  devas- 
tated for  a  season  may  be  replanted  and 
forests  once  cut  may  be  regrown ;  but  river-beds 
made  low  cannot  usually  be  refilled,  and  mines 
of  coal,  of  silver,  or  of  gold  once  exhausted 
cannot  be  restocked.  The  loss  is  lasting.  All 
these  measures  and  methods  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  forces  of  nature  are  good. 

Individuals,    too,    are    engaged,    and    indi- 
viduals for  endless  generations  have  been  en- 

[101] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

gaged,  in  laying  up  material  goods.  The 
purpose  of  the  amassing  has  been  and  still  is  to 
secure  power,  to  find  happiness  in  the  gaining 
and  in  the  having.  Small  fortunes  are  amassed 
for  the  inevitable  "  rainy  day,"  and  great 
fortunes  are  piled  up  which  would  protect  not 
only  for  one  rainy  day,  but  also  against  a 
deluge  of  forty  days  and  nights.  Such  con- 
servatism and  thrift  are  in  many  respects 
worthy.  ^ 

I  wish,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Commence- 
ment season,  which  crowns  your  college  course, 
to  intimate  to  you  that  you  possess  riches 
that  are  more  comprehensive  and  more  precious 
than  those  of  forests  and  fields  and  mines, 
more  common,  more  fundamental,  and  more 
worthy  than  wealth  or  wage.  This  wealth  is  a 
wealth  made  by  all  the  forces  which  strengthen 
man's  virtues,  which  give  enlargement  and 
enrichment  to  character,  and  which  promote 
the  incarnation  of  the  graces  into  graciousness 
and  which  deepen  men's  satisfactions  in  the 
eternal  principles  of  life  and  of  being.  The 
having  of  such  wealth  is  one  of  the  comprehen- 
sive results  of  a  college  education. 

I  would  interpret  your  thought  respecting 
the  wealth  which  you  have  in  the  natural  world. 

Nature  first  awakens  in  the  beholder  wonder, 
[102] 


BEING  RICH  WITHOUT  RICHES 

wonder  which  in  turn  becomes  the  material 
for  and  mother  of  poetry,  and,  secondly,  she 
quickens  curiosity,  which  in  turn  becomes  the 
inspiring  force  of  science.  Nature  makes  her 
appeal  to  the  will,  too,  as  a  source  and  emblem 
of  power.  She  addresses  herself,  moreover, 
to  the  aesthetic  sense  as  the  image  and  in- 
spirer  of  the  beautiful.  Under  each  part  of 
this  quartet  of  relations  nature  offers  friendship. 
In  poetry  nature  is  interpreted  as  suffused 
with  a  vital  spirit  to  which  man  may  hold 
relation.  In  science  nature  shows  her  worth 
as  the  beneficiary  of  man.  In  her  power 
nature  is  manifest  as  the  origin  of  the  forces 
making  for  human  welfare,  comfort  and  up- 
building. In  beauty  and  its  appeal  to  the  eye 
and  the  general  heart  of  man,  nature  presents 
great  consolations  and  inspirations.  In  each 
of  these  relations  nature  has  become  a  resource 
to  you  whence  you  have  acquired  strength 
for  doing,  for  bearing  and  for  the  enrichment 
of  character. 

Such  an  appreciation  of  nature  is  made  evi- 
dent in  the  Hebrew  Psalms,  and  also,  to  take 
a  long  leap,  in  the  poetry  of  Wordsworth. 
But  without  the  interpretation  of  poetry, 
man  finds  in  nature  herself,  through  a  direct 
approach,    holiest    treasure.     Nature    belongs 

[103] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

both  to  time  and  to  space.  In  space  it  is 
vision  appealing  to  the  eye,  in  time  it  is  a  sym- 
phony appealing  to  the  ear.  But  through 
both  eye  and  ear  nature  appeals  to  the  reason, 
and  to  the  reason  as  a  revelation  of  truth,  of 
law,  and  of  wisdom.  Nature  gives  herself  to 
us  as  the  beautiful  and  the  sublime.  At  her 
altar  each  may  serve  as  either  a  priest  or  a 
saint.  "  Before  all  else,"  says  Russell  of 
Matthew  Arnold,  "  he  was  a  worshipper  of 
nature,  watching  all  her  changing  aspects  with 
a  loverlike  assiduity,  and  never  happy  in  a 
long-continued  separation  from  her."  Such 
worship  arises  from,  and  in  turn  deepens,  the 
sympathies  with  the  love  for,  and  the  knowl- 
edge of,  nature.  Man  should  become  natural- 
ized, and  nature  humanized.  One  of  the 
greatest  literary  men  of  the  last  generation  has 
well  expressed  the  humanizing  of  nature, 
when  he  says:  "The  mountains  speak  to  me 
in  tones  at  once  more  tender  and  more  awe- 
inspiring  than  that  of  any  mortal  teacher. 
The  loftiest  and  sweetest  strains  of  Milton 
and  Wordsworth  may  be  more  articulate,  but 
they  do  not  lay  so  forcible  a  grasp  upon  my 
imagination." 

The  second  form  of  the  riches  which  belong 
to  you   as   a   college  graduate,   is   found   in 
[104] 


BEING  RICH  WITHOUT  RICHES 

literature.  Literature  has,  in  various  lan- 
guages, formed  a  large  share  of  your  study. 
What  wealth  that  word  intimates!  The  biog- 
raphy, the  novel,  the  poem,  the  history! 
What  one  man,  what  all  men  have  been  and 
have  done,  what  the  imagination  creates  of 
romance  and  of  song!  The  book  as  a  friend 
is  a  great  resource.  One  might  speak  of  a 
book  as  a  source  of  knowledge.  Let  me 
interpret  it  as  a  source  and  resource  of  friend- 
ship. The  friends  of  the  novel,  how  many, 
how  interesting,  how  intimate  without  famil- 
iarity they  all  are:  Pickwick,  the  most 
popular  man  in  all  fiction,  Arthur  Pendennis, 
Henry  Esmond,  so  human,  and  Jane  Austen's 
quiet  and  simple  men  and  women  of  the  first 
decades  of  the  last  century.  One  who  knows 
them  all,  with  Scott's  and  George  Eliot's  and 
Hawthorne's  creations,  has  come  to  possess 
much  of  affection's  strength  and  a  goodly 
fellowship  of  humanity. 

"  Darwin  was  extremely  fond  of  novels," 
says  his  son,  "  and  I  remember  well  the  way 
in  which  he  would  anticipate  the  pleasure  of 
having  a  novel  read  to  him,  as  he  lay  down, 
or  lighted  his  cigarette.  He  took  a  vivid  in- 
terest in  both  plot  and  characters,  and  would 
on  no  account  know  beforehand  how  a  story 
[  105  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

finished;  he  considered  looking  at  the  end  of  a 
novel  as  a  feminine  vice.  He  could  not  enjoy- 
any  story  with  a  tragical  end;  for  this  reason 
he  did  not  keenly  appreciate  George  Eliot's 
stories,  though  he  often  spoke  warmly  in  praise 
of  *  Silas  Marner.'  Walter  Scott,  Miss  Austen, 
and  Mrs.  Gaskell  were  read  and  re-read  till 
they  could  be  read  no  more.  He  had  two  or 
three  books  in  hand  at  the  same  time — a 
novel  apd  perhaps  a  biography  and  a  book  of 
travels.  He  did  not  often  read  out-of-the-way 
or  old  standard  books,  but  generally  kept  to 
the  books  of  the  day  obtained  from  a  circu- 
lating library." 

Perhaps  some  one  would  say  that  a  yet 
richer  resource  lies  in  the  great  poems.  I  have 
a  friend  who  would  prefer  of  a  morning  the 
Iliad  to  any  other  piece,  and  another  whose 
solace  is  found  in  the  ^Eneid.  Many  happy 
evenings  have  I  spent  with  this  friend  as  he  has 
read  out  to  me  the  great  hexameters  of  the 
Mantuan  bard.  But  if  one  prefer  to  keep  to 
his  English  verse,  as  most  do,  what  strength 
lies  in  the  trinity  of  messages  of  Tennyson, 
Browning,  Matthew  Arnold! 

Browning  seems  uncouth,  crabbed,  un- 
known, unknowable;  Tennyson  seems  cold, 
remote,  at  times  apathetic,  but  each  is  a  wise 
[  106  ] 


BEING  RICH  WITHOUT  RICHES 

interpreter  of  and  a  mighty  minister  to  our 
age.  Matthew  Arnold  may  sing  the  song  of 
cultured  doubt  but  he  also  chants  the  great 
psalm  of  ultimate  faith.  Browning  sings  of 
supreme  and  all-conquering  optimism,  "  God's 
in  His  heaven,  all's  well  with  the  world." 
Tennyson  sings  of  the  great  things  in  life,  of 
character,  of  duty,  of  God.  Leonard  Huxley 
says  of  his  father,  "  Shelley  was  too  diffuse 
to  be  among  his  first  favorites;  but  for  his 
simple  beauty,  Keats;  for  that,  and  for  the 
comprehension  of  the  meaning  of  modern 
science,  Tennyson;  for  strength  and  feeling, 
Browning  as  represented  by  his  earlier  poems. 
These  were  the  favorites  among  the  moderns. 
He  knew  his  eighteenth-century  classics,  and 
he  knew  better  his  Milton  and  his  Shakespeare, 
to  whom  he  turned  with  ever-increasing  satis- 
faction, as  men  do  who  have  lived  a  full  life." 
The  one  man  of  modern  time  who  found 
books  the  richest  resource,  was  one  who  him- 
self was  a  maker  of  books.  On  his  way  out 
to  India  in  1832,  Macaulay,  as  he  wrote  to  a 
friend,  read  much.  He  says,  "  My  power  of 
finding  amusement  without  companions  was 
pretty  well  tried  on  my  voyage."  He  pro- 
ceeds to  name  some  hundreds  of  books.  The 
last  scene  his  nephew  and  biographer  paints: 
[107] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

"  We  found  him  in  the  library,  seated  in  his 
easy  chair,  and  dressed  as  usual;  with  his  book 
on  the  table  beside  him,  still  open  at  the  same 
page." 

This  friendship  of  books  is  a  rich  mine  to 
which  the  college  gateway  opens. 

The  third  form  of  wealth  which  the  college 
has  given  you  is  the  friendship  of  friends. 
George  Eliot  says,  that  if  a  few  weeks  passed 
without^  receiving  some  message  from  a  friend, 
she  began  to  doubt  that  friend's  love,  so 
dependent  was  she  upon  her  friendships. 
You  first  make  friends,  and  then  your  friends 
make  you.  Friendships  are  based  on  personal 
likings  and  permanent  principles.  Friendships 
arise  from  and  enter  into  the  soul.  Friendships 
are  largely  made  when  the  heart  is  young, 
unfettered,  responsive  to  give  and  to  accept. 
Of  noble  friendships  life  is  full.  Carlyle  gave 
to  Tennyson  his  tobacco  box  as  a  pledge  of 
eternal  brotherhood,  and  in  the  bottom  of  the 
box  was  found  a  letter  from  Carlyle,  intro- 
ducing Mrs.  Oliphant.  The  friendship  be- 
tween Tennyson  and  Browning  is  a  noble 
example.  Browning  dedicated  a  selection  of 
his  poems  to  Alfred  Tennyson: 

*'  In  poetry  Illustrious  and  consummate, 
In  friendship  noble  and  sincere." 

[  108  ] 


.      BEING  RICH  WITHOUT  RICHES 

The  son  and  biographer  adds,  "  Browning 
frequently  dined  with  us.  The  tete-d-tete 
conversations  between  him  and  my  father  on 
every  imaginable  topic,  when  no  one  but  my- 
self was  with  them,  were  the  best  talks  I  have 
ever  heard,  so  full  of  repartee,  quip,  epigram, 
anecdote,  depth  and  wisdom;  but  it  is  quite 
impossible  to  reproduce  them,  owing  to  their 
very  brilliancy.  These  brother-poets  were 
two  of  the  most  widely-read  men  of  the  time, 
absolutely  without  a  touch  of  jealousy,  and 
revelling  as  it  were  in  each  other's  power." 

Perhaps  the  most  impressive  illustration  of 
a  large  number  of  warm  friends  is  found  in 
the  career  of  Charles  Wordsworth,  the  Bishop 
of  St.  Andrews.  He  tells  that  during  his  day 
at  Oxford  he  was  intimate  with  Claughton, 
who  afterwards  became  Bishop  of  Colombo, 
with  Roundell  Palmer,  with  Anthony  Grant, 
Canon  of  Rochester,  with  Dean  Liddell,  with 
Canon  Harrison,  of  Canterbury,  with  Scott, 
the  master  of  Balliol,  with  Vaughan,  who 
became  Professor  of  Modern  History,  with 
James  Bruce,  known  as  Lord  Elgin,  who  be- 
came Governor-General  of  India. 

The    dependence   of   friend    on   friend,    the 
helpfulness  of  friend  to  friend,  the  formative 
power    pf    friend    over    friend    represent    the 
[109] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

active  side  of  the  resource  of  friendship. 
Thomas  Jefferson  said  of  one  of  his  college 
teachers  that  he  "  probably  fixed  the  outlines 
of  my  life."  Mark  Hopkins  helped  many  a 
Williams  man  to  find  himself.  Arthur  Hallam, 
moving  upon  Tennyson,  Sir  William  Hamilton 
upon  Clark  Maxwell,  Hawkins  and  Whately 
on  Newman,  Arnold  on  Stanley,  Henshaw  on 
Darwin,  and  Darwin  on  Romanes,  how  the 
list  lengthens  of  noble  mind  inspiring  noble 
mind  in  the  conditions  of  intimate  friendship! 
Many  a  younger  man  may  sing  of  his  friends  as 
Romanes  sang  of  Darwin,  in  his  "  Charles 
Darwin  ": 

"  My  help,  my  guide,  my  stay  of  heart  and  mind. 
The  friend  whose  life  was  dearer  than  my  own." 

To  commend  the  worth  of  friendship  is  to 
commend  what  all  recognize  as  of  chief  worth. 
In  the  centuries  that  divide  the  writing  of 
Cicero's  essay  "  De  Amicitia,"  from  the 
writing  of  Tennyson's  "  In  Memoriam,"  friend- 
ships are  the  unfailing  springs  of  refreshment 
along  life's  thirsty  highways. 

The  college,  furthermore,  has  opened  to  you 
a  great  resource  in  yourself.  This  resource  is 
not  the  resource  of  pride,  of  arrogance,  of  self- 
satisfaction,  of  self-contentment.     It  is,  first, 

[110  J 


BEING  RICH  WITHOUT  RICHES 

the  resource  rather  of  great  thoughts  and  great  f 
thinking.  "  Give  me  a  great  thought  that  I  * 
may  lift  myself  with  it,"  said  Jean  Paul. 
Yes,  a  great  thought  lifts.  "  If  you  have  a 
mind,  use  it;  it  is  a  most  interesting  thing," 
said  Walter  Bagehot.  Great  thoughts  are 
a  great  resource.  Such  a  resource  the  ablest 
of  American  theologians  found  in  his  contem- 
plation of  God.  In  somewhat  of  hyperbolic 
phrase,  he  says  that  he  liked  to  think  upon  the 
wisdom,  the  purity,  the  love,  the  excellency  of 
the  Divine  Being  as  manifest  in  the  sun,  sky, 
cloud,  grass,  flower,  trees,  and  all  nature.  He 
heard  the  voice  of  God  in  the  thunder;  he  saw 
the  face  of  God  in  the  cloud;  he  felt  the  presence 
of  God  in  his  sweet  contemplations. 

The  resource  of  oneself  is  found  not  simply 
in  the  realm  of  thought.  It  abides  also  in  the 
domain  of  feeling.  Noble  emotions  constitute 
it  and  help  to  give  it  form  as  well  as  substance. 
"  The  heart  has  its  reasons,"  says  Pascal, 
"  of  which  the  reason  knows  not."  These 
passions,  either  active  or  passive,  represent 
conditions  of  sweet  and  noble  contentment. 
Most  people  live  more  in  their  hearts  than  in 
their  heads.  Their  feelings  mean  more  to 
them  than  their  thoughts.  The  optimist  is 
quite  as  much  the  man  who  feels  happy  as  the 

[111] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

man  who  thinks  straight;  the  pessimist  is 
rather  the  man  who  "  feels  miserable  "  than  the 
man  who  believes  in  evil.  The  heart,  there- 
fore, the  spring  of  holy  and  happy  feelings, 
strong,  pure,  constant,  is  a  noble  element  in 
the  treasury  of  one's  own  selfhood. 

Into  the  possession  of  such  a  resource  the 
individual  usually  enters  through  some  great 
experience  or  by  means  of  prolonged  and  up- 
lifting ^  disciplines.  In  "  Sartor  Resartus  " 
Carlyle  paints  this  transformation  as  the 
passing  from  '^  the  everlasting  no''  through 
the  center  of  indifference  "  into  "  the  everlast- 
ing yea  "; 

"  Divine  moment,  when  over  the  tempest- 
tost  Soul,  as  once  over  the  wild-weltering 
Chaos,  it  is  spoken:  Let  there  be  Light! 
Ever  to  the  greatest  that  has  felt  such  a 
moment,  it  is  miraculous  and  God-Announcing; 
even  as,  under  simpler  features,  to  the  simplest 
and  least.  The  mad  primeval  discord  is 
hushed;  the  rudely-jumbled  silent  rock-foun- 
dations are  built  beneath;  and  the  skyey 
vault  with  its  everlasting  Luminaries  above: 
instead  of  a  dark  wasteful  Chaos,  we  have  a 
blooming,  fertile,  heaven-encompassed  world." 
This  change,  however,  is  not  a  change  in  the 
world.  The  primary  change  is  in  the  man 
[112] 


BEING  RICH  WITHOUT  RICHES 

himself,  and  the  man  himself  clothes  the  world 
with  the  transformations  which  he  himself 
experiences. 

This  awakened  man  has  come  to  believe  in 
himself.  He  is  egoistic  in  the  most  worthy 
sense,  and  possibly  at  times  in  a  sense  not  the 
worthiest.  This  self-confidence  arises  in  the 
man  discovering  in  himself  powers  of  which  he 
had  no  intimation  as  existing.  He  finds 
himself  stronger,  larger,  richer  than  he  thought. 
The  man  thinks  himself  able  to  know  things 
which  once  seemed  impossible.  "  Produce, 
produce "  is  again  commanded,  as  it  was 
commanded  by  "  The  Everlasting  Yea."  He 
will  do  things.  "  Impossible  "  is  not  the  word 
writ  in  this  new  man's  dictionary.  Whatever 
field  of  investigation  or  endeavor  he  may  honor 
by  the  dedication  of  his  powers  will  thence- 
forth be  wider  in  extent  and  richer  in  findings. 
The  man  of  this  self-confidence  is  not  inclined 
to  sympathize  with  the  past.  The  former 
generations  have  not  done  what  they  ought. 
Their  richest  attainments  and  highest  achieve- 
ments are  not  absolutely  either  high  or  rich. 
Even  iconoclastic  may  become  the  prevailing 
mode  and  agent  of  this  new-born,  self-found 
man.  He  may  remove  the  images  which  hu- 
manity has  long  worshipped.  The  super- 
[113] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

stitions  which  humanity  has  been  long  con- 
tent to  adore  he  expels  from  the  ancient 
shrines  and  sets  up  new  gods  for  humanity's 
worship. 

This  self-confidence  is  usually  very  serious. 
It  takes  itself  religiously.  It  has  none  of  the 
gaiety  and  frivolity  of  the  world.  If  a  man  has 
been  devoting  himself  to  keeping  his  purple  very 
purple,  his  fine  linen  very  fine,  and  has  been 
wont  to  ^  fare  sumptuously  every  day,  he 
becomes  willing  to  discard  his  old  belongings. 
In  long-meter,  —  and  possibly  in  a  minor  key 
as  v/ell,  —  he  sings  life's  psalm,  "  Life  is  real, 
life  is  earnest."  He  becomes  conscious  of 
responsibilities  and  of  his  own  responsibility. 
A  change  passes  over  him  somewhat  akin  to 
that  which  comes  to  Donatello  of  Hawthorne's 
Transformation. 

Ah,  happy,  thrice  happy  the  man  who  in 
humility  and  strength  of  soul  is  able  to  find  in 
himself  such  resources.  The  age  is  trusting 
in  its  "  horses  "  and  its  "  chariots."  It  is  in- 
clined to  believe  that  material  forces  can  bear 
man  into  life's  supreme  contentments  and 
satisfactions.  It  someway  thinks  that  ex- 
terior wealth  will  by  some  process  offer  to  man 
the  best,  or  prepare  man  to  grasp  and  to  enjoy 
life's  richest  prizes.  Over  sea  and  over  land 
[114] 


BEING  RICH  WITHOUT  RICHES 

these  "  horses  "  and  these  "  chariots  "  may 
bear  one,  and  from  the  depths  of  the  one  and 
the  gold-bearing  rocks  of  the  other  it  is  be- 
lieved these  carriers  may  bring  treasures  finest 
and  most  satisfying.  But,  ah!  the  bitter 
taste  makes  sweet  cups  bitter,  blind  eyes  see 
no  lustre,  and  palsied  hands  hold  no  treasure. 
It  is  the  man  himself  who  makes  all  well  because 
he  himself  is  good  and  able,  rich  in  mind,  and 
noble  in  heart. 

The  integrity  and  fullness  of  one's  own 
nature,  after  the  deposit  which  was  originally 
made  at  birth,  depend  upon  education.  For, 
if  education  literally  means  a  drawing  out, 
it  does,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  represent  enrich- 
ment. Education  aids  one  to  think  compre- 
hensively, accurately,  truthfully.  Education 
increases  the  number  and  the  worth  of  one's 
relationships.  It  gives  self-knowledge,  self- 
reverence,  self-development,  self-control.  It 
aids  in  making  righteous  and  wise  choices; 
it  extends  the  boundaries  of  knowledge;  it 
helps  to  create  the  citizen  who  is  at  home  in 
all  lands  and  under  all  conditions.  It  gives  a 
standard  and  a  testimony  for  judging  of  values. 
It  aids  co-operation,  for  it  promotes  an  appre- 
ciation of  men  of  other  conditions.  It  repre- 
sents the  largest  and  the  richest  endowment, 

[115] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

It  pushes  out  life's  horizon  and  lifts  life's  sky; 
it  gives  graciousness  without  weakness,  strength 
without  severity,  largeness  without  visionari- 
ness.     Education  is  fullness. 

One  reason  why  men  fall  morally  is  that 
they  find  no  permanent  support  in  themselves. 
Lacking  self-guidance  they  accept  guidance  of 
others  and  such  guidance  may  be  indeed  by 
and  unto  forbidden  paths.  Lacking  the  means 
of  enjoyment  in  themselves  they  turn  to  ob- 
jective enjoyments,  and  these  means  are  liable 
to  be  objectionable.  Finding  themselves  rather 
stupid  company,  not  having  the  "  interesting 
mind  "  of  Walter  Bagehot,  they  enter  into 
companionships  which  are  unworthy.  Self- 
worth  is  a  mighty  bulwark  against  accepting 
unworthy  environments  and  unworthy  nourish- 
ment. 

In  a  poem  of  unknown  authorship  it  is  logi- 
cally, as  well  as  beautifully,  said: 

"  My  mind  to  me  a  kingdom  is: 
Such  perfect  joy  therein  I  find, 
As  far  exceeds  all  earthly  bliss 
That  world  affords,  or  grows  by  kind : 
Though  much  I  want  what  most  men  have, 
Yet  doth  my  mind  forbid  me  crave. 

"  Content  I  live —  this  is  my  stay; 
I  seek  no  more  than  may  suffice: 

[116] 


BEING  RICH  WITHOUT  RICHES 

I  press  to  bear  no  haughty  sway; 
Look — what  I  lack,  my  mind  supplies! 
Lo!  thus  I  triumph  like  a  king, 
Content  with  that  my  mind  doth  bring." 

I  must  refer  to  one  other  resource  which  the 
college,  I  believe,  has  opened  to  you.  It  is 
the  resource  found  in  moral  good  and  in  re- 
ligion. Moral  good  exists  without  religion, 
although  religion  cannot  exist  without  moral 
good.  In  life's  crises,  which  you  are  sure  of 
meeting,  the  hope  of  clinging  to  moral  goodness 
is  supreme.  You  may  find  that  the  beliefs 
which  you  once  held  are  faltering,  that  the 
creed  that  once  you  glibly  repeated  you  can 
no  longer  say.  You  may,  in  some  awful  night 
of  loneliness  or  dismay,  come  to  doubt  those 
things  which  have  seemed  most  real  and  most 
personal.  But  if,  in  such  crises,  you  can  look 
to  the  simple  landmarks  of  moral  character, 
you  are  saved  and  safe.  Out  of  such  a  night 
of  struggle  you  shall  come  forth  with  a  faith 
more  firm  and  a  certainty  more  glorious. 

With  these  resources  of  moral  goodness,  I 
would  associate  the  riches  found  in  religion. 
By  religion  I  mean  the  Christian  religion.  I 
mean  that  system  of  belief  which  is  most  fully, 
beautifully,  effectively  embodied  in  the  teach- 
ings and  person  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  have  re- 
[117] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

ferred  to  the  glory  of  confidence  in  moral 
truth.  A  great  scientist  and  theologian,  cut 
down  before  his  time,  was  George  John  Ro- 
manes. Romanes  once  said:  "And  foras- 
much as  I  am  far  from  being  able  to  agree 
with  those  who  affirm  that  the  twilight  doctrine 
of  the  '  new  faith  '  is  a  desirable  substitute 
for  the  waning  splendor  of  '  the  old,'  I  am  not 
ashamed  to  confess  that  with  this  virtual 
negation  of  God  the  universe  to  me  has  lost 
its  soul  of  loveliness;  and  although  from  hence- 
forth there  is  pressed  upon  me  terribly  intensi- 
fied the  meaning  of  the  old  words  *  the  night 
Cometh  when  no  man  can  work,'  yet  when  at 
times  I  think,  as  think  at  times  I  must,  of  the 
appalling  contrast  between  the  hallowed  glory 
of  the  creed  which  once  was  mine,  and  the 
lonely  mystery  of  existence  as  now  I  find  it, 
at  such  times  I  shall  ever  feel  it  impossible  to 
avoid  the  sharpest  pang  of  which  my  nature 
is  susceptible.  For  whether  it  be  due  to  my 
intelligence  not  being  sufficiently  advanced  to 
meet  the  requirements  of  the  age,  or  whether 
it  be  due  to  the  memory  of  those  sacred 
associations  which  to  me  at  least  were  the 
sweetest  that  life  has  given,  I  cannot  but  feel 
that  for  me,  and  for  others  that  think  as  I  do, 
there  is  a  dreadful  truth  in  those  words  of  the 
[118] 


BEING  RICH  WITHOUT  RICHES 

precept  know  thyself  which  has  become  trans- 
formed into  the  terrific  oracle  of  CEdipus: 

"  May'st  thou  ne'er  know  the  truth  of  what  thou  art." 

But  near  the  close  of  Romanes'  brief,  though 
eventful  and  mighty,  life,  other  sentiments  pos- 
sessed and  ruled  his  soul.  He  found  that 
God,  whom  in  the  earlier  time  he  had  not  been 
able  to  find.  In  one  of  his  little  known  but 
moving  sonnets  he  well  expresses  the  final 
conclusion. 

"  I  ask  not  for  Thy  love,  O  Lord:  the  days 
Can  never  come  when  anguish  shall  atone. 
Enough  for  me  were  but  thy  pity  shown 
To  me  as  to  the  stricken  sheep  that  strays, 
With  ceaseless  cry  for  unforgotten  ways  — 
Oh,  lead  me  back  to  pastures  I  have  known, 
Or  find  me  in  the  wilderness  alone, 
And  slay  me,  as  the  hand  of  mercy  slays. 

"  I  ask  not  for  thy  love,  nor  e'en  so  much 
As  for  hope  on  thy  dear  breast  to  lie; 
But  be  thou  still  my  Shepherd  —  still  with  such 
Compassion  as  may  melt  to  such  a  cry; 
That  so  I  hear  Thy  feet,  and  feel  Thy  touch, 
And  dimly  see  Thy  face  ere  yet  I  die." 

Religion,    interpreted    thus    broadly,    pro- 
foundly,  highly,  should  be  to   the  individual, 
light  in  darkness,  companionship  in  solitude, 
comfort  in  sorrow,  fullness  in  need. 
[119] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

These  resources,  —  nature,  art,  literature, 
friendships,  oneself,  moral  government  and 
religion,  —  are  available  in  different  degrees 
to  different  persons.  To  some  they  may  be 
largely  denied,  to  others  given  with  almost  too 
abounding  fullness.  Nature  is  offered  to  all, 
but  the  eye  may  be  blind  and  the  ear  deaf. 
Did  not  Pater  find  Switzerland  stupid?  Un- 
appreciative,  too,  may  one  be  of  music,  though 
very  seldbm  of  noble  painting.  In  some  form 
literature  is  a  support  for  all:  for  it  is  an  ex- 
pression of  the  highest  life  and  its  forms  of 
expression  are  manifold.  Friendship,  too, 
and  moral  justice  and  religious  culture,  also, 
make  a  universal  appeal  to  the  human  im- 
pulses and  to  the  aspiring  spirit.  Every  man, 
too,  true  to  himself  must  on  himself  rely. 
From  this  comprehensive  treasure  the  soul  of 
man  intuitively  and  instinctively  selects  those 
resources  which  are  of  richest  worth  to  itself. 
No  one  shall  be  famished  for  the  bread,  or 
thirsty  for  the  water,  of  life! 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Classes: 

I  began  with  the  intimation  that  there  are 

resources  of  higher  worth  than  those  found  in 

mines  of  gold,  in  river  courses  or  prairie  loam. 

Has  it  not  become  evident  that  my  intimation 

[  120  ] 


BEING  RICH  WITHOUT  RICHES 

needs  no  demonstration?  Is  not  nature  as 
interpreted  by  the  poet,  or  as  humanized  in 
life;  is  not  the  art  of  music  and  of  the  picture; 
is  not  literature  as  embodied  in  manifold  forms; 
is  not  friendship  as  seen  in  larger  association 
or  in  the  family  circle;  is  not  oneself  as 
contemplating  great  thoughts  and  experiencing 
great  feelings;  is  not  moral  good  and  religious 
truth;  is  not  each  a  resource  richer  than 
wealth,  and  more  satisfying  than  material 
treasure  of  any  form? 

To  you,  above  most  people,  in  fact  above  all 
people,  except  those  who  are  your  sisters  and 
brothers  of  other  colleges,  these  riches  are  given. 
The  college  is  happy  to  have  worked  with  you 
in  their  creation.  The  college  rejoices  in  the 
assurance  that  you  will  conserve  them  for  your 
mortal  life,  and  also,  that  when  the  life  mortal 
passes  into  the  life  immortal  you  will  find 
treasure  laid  up  for  you  in  heaven  akin  to  the 
treasure  which  you,  as  students,  have  laid  up 
on  earth. 


[121] 


VII 

THE    AMERICAN    COLLEGE    STU- 
DENT AND  THE  UNIVERSITIES 
OF  THE  WORLD 


Chapter  VII 

THE  AMERICAN   COLLEGE   STUDENT 

AND  THE  UNIVERSITIES  OF 

THE  WORLD 

[1910] 
"  Put  on  the  whole  armor  of  God." —  Ephesians  vi :  11. 

THE  universities  of  the  Far  East  give  a 
training  to  their  students  for  efficiency; 
the  universities  of  Germany  train 
scholars;  the  Scotch  universities  train  men  as 
thinkers;  the  English  universities  educate  the 
gentleman; — the  universities  of  America 
should  unite  these  four  elements,  —  an  educa- 
tion for  efficiency,  for  scholarship,  for  thinking, 
and  as  the  gentleman,  and  also  should  educate 
unto  a  high  and  broad  type  of  Christian 
character. 

The  American  college  graduate  should  repre- 
sent a  high  type  of  efficiency.  He  should  be 
prepared  to  do,  and  to  do  something  worth 
while.  The  college  is  not  a  professional  school; 
it  IS  a  preparation  for  the  professional  school. 
The  type  of  efficiency  which  the  college  gradu- 
ate should  stand  for  is  of  a  general  sort.     But 

[  125  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

in  it  are  included,  first,  principles.  No  mere 
arbitrary  rule  is  worthy  of  the  graduate's 
following.  He  recognizes,  appreciates,  and 
acts  upon  those  fundamental  elements  of  being 
out  of  which  rules  arise.  A  second  element 
in  the  graduate's  efficiency  is  earnestness. 
The  college  man  is  not  to  be  a  dawdler,  a 
dilettante  or  a  loafer.  The  charge  is  sometimes 
made  tl^at  the  college  man  dwells  in  a  past  age, 
that  he  is  not  keenly  alert  to  the  problems  of 
the  present.  Fifty  years  ago  a  graduate  called 
up  from  the  campus  to  a  friend  studying  in  his 
dormitory  room,  "  Fort  Sumter  is  fired  upon!  " 
"  What  do  I  care,"  was  the  answer,  "  I  am 
working  on  my  Greek  Grammar."  But  that 
was  fifty  years  ago.  The  man  was  not  earnest; 
if  he  had  been  studying  his  Greek  Grammar 
properly,  he  would  have  recognized  the  sig- 
nificance of  the  attack  on  Fort  Sumter.  In 
earnestness  is  a  love  for  people  and  an  allegiance 
to  truth. 

The  college  graduate  is  also  to  stand  for  the 
German  university  conception  of  scholarship. 
He  need  not  himself  be  a  scholar.  Few  men 
are  scholars.  The  broad  scholar  has  passed. 
The  man  of  encyclopaedic  learning  is  no  more. 
Knowledge  becomes  so  enormous  that  to 
possess  more  than  the  smallest  bit  of  the  vast 
[126] 


UNIVERSITIES  OF  THE  WORLD 

store  is  impossible.  Had  it  not  been  for  the 
index  and  the  card  catalogue  the  increasing 
wealth  of  knowledge  would  have  submerged 
humanity.  But  the  college  graduate  should 
have  a  sympathy  with  scholarship,  an  appre- 
ciation of  the  cost  of  scholarship,  should  under- 
stand the  significance  and  should  prize  the 
usefulness  of  scholarship.  He  should  feel 
keenest  honor,  too,  for  the  scholar.  There 
are  two  types  of  men  which  Americans  are 
prone  to  honor;  one  is  the  very  rich  man 
and  the  other  the  man  of  high  public  office. 
These  two  types  are  sure  of  receiving  quite  as 
much  honor  as  they  deserve.  But  the  scholar 
should  be  honored  more.  When  Helmholtz, 
one  of  the  greatest  of  modern  scientists,  was 
visiting  this  country  seventeen  years  ago, 
Mr.  Bell,  of  telephone  fame,  came  a  long  dis- 
tance to  New  York  to  say  to  Helmholtz  that 
the  principles  which  the  great  German  had 
discovered  were  the  principles  which  led  him 
to  the  invention  of  the  telephone.  In  the 
Chinese  social  scale  the  scholar  stands  first. 
The  American  college  graduate,  scholar  or  no 
scholar,  should  have  the  keenest  respect  and 
the  highest  honor  for  the  scholar. 

The  American  college  graduate  should  also 
embody  the  characteristic  of  the  Scotch  uni- 
[127] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

versity;  he  should  be  a  thinker.  He  should 
discern  and  discriminate;  he  should  be  able 
to  analyze  complex  phenomena;  he  should 
disentangle  the  snarl  of  conflicting  argument, 
should  distinguish  the  necessary  from  the 
incidental,  the  relevant  from  the  irrelevant, 
the  permanent  from  the  transient.  He  should 
not  fail  to  assess  a  fact  at  its  just  value,  to 
understand  the  relation  of  facts,  to  know  the 
difference  between  an  argument  and  an  illus- 
tration, between  a  premise  and  a  conclusion. 
He  should  think  in  terms  of  language,  and  these 
terms  are  of  aflfluence.  He  should  think  in 
terms  of  science,  and  these  terms  stand  for 
exactness;  he  should  think  in  terms  of  mathe- 
matics, and  these  terms  are  necessary  and 
fundamental;  he  should  think  in  terms  of  the 
social  sciences,  and  these  terms  are  touched 
by  human  emotions  and  sympathies.  Think- 
ing is  to  be  differentiated  from  both  feeling 
and  willing.  Feeling  is  important,  but  feeling 
without  thinking  is  ill  regulated,  ill  propor- 
tioned and  disastrous.  Willing  is  important; 
a  strong  will  makes  a  strong  man,  but  willing 
without  thinking  foreordains  defeat.  Willing 
without  thinking  is  a  leap  without  looking,  a 
leap  into  the  dark  indeed.  The  college  graduate 
is  to  represent  the  Scotch  ideal  of  the  thinker. 
[128] 


UNIVERSITIES  OF  THE  WORLD 

The  American  college  graduate  is  also  to  be 
the  gentleman  and  the  gentle-lady.  Who  is 
the  gentleman  ?  You  ask  me,  —  I  cannot 
tell  you.  You  do  not  ask  me,  and  I  know. 
He  is  the  one  whose  mind  is  trained  to  see  the 
elements  and  forces  of  a  social  condition  and 
who  is  able  to  adjust  himself  to  them.  He 
understands  and  appreciates.  He  represents 
the  l.ne  art  of  good  manners.  What  is  the 
purpose  of  the  fine  arts?  It  is  to  give  pleasure. 
The  gentleman  seeks  to  give  pleasure;  he  is 
at  home  in  any  society.  He,  being  rich,  can 
be  with  the  poor  and  give  no  intimation  of  his 
wealth;  he,  being  poor,  can  be  with  the  rich, 
and  be  happy.  He  represents  a  moral  element, 
as  well  as  an  intellectual  He  seeks  to  serve, 
and  hurts  no  one  unless  obliged  to  hurt. 
He  protects  the  weakest,  he  loves  the  un- 
lovely, he  bears  with  and  seeks  to  save  the 
erring.  He  restores  the  lost,  he  helps  the  help- 
less. 

The  American  college  student  represents  a 
fifth  element  which  comprehends  all  I  have 
tried  to  say,  —  he  should  be  a  Christian. 
Who  and  what  is  the  Christian.'^  The  Chris- 
tian is  the  man  who  accepts  Christ  as  his 
Master;  he  finds  in  Christ's  discourse  the  high- 
est philosophy,  —  the  philosophy  concerning 
[129] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

God  himself.  He  finds  in  Christ's  teaching  the 
noblest  moral  code,  a  code  of  love  for  men 
inspired  by  love  for  God.  He  finds  in  Christ's 
commands  life's  supreme  duties,  —  duty  of 
service.  He  finds  in  Christ's  invitations  life's 
most  comfortable  rewards.  He  finds  in  Christ's 
promises  rallying  cries  for  noblest  endeavors, 
and  in  Christ's  character  he  finds  the  incar- 
nation of  divine  and  human  ideals.  The 
Christian  is  not  a  being  apart;  the  Christian 
is  the  man  efficient,  plus  the  man  scholarly, 
plus  the  man  thinking,  plus  the  man  gentle- 
manly, and  a  personality  inspired  by  the  pas- 
sion for  Christ  as  his  Master.  The  Christian 
conception  represents  the  highest  conception 
of  life  reaching  out  towards  infinity,  the  deepest 
conception  of  life  going  down  to  fundamental 
being,  the  broadest  conception  of  life,  teaching 
all  men.  It  stands  for  all  that  is  noblest, 
most  lasting,  most  human,  most  divine;  it 
goes  out  above  and  beyond  and  beneath  the 
conception  of  the  Roman  Catholic,  the  Friend, 
the  Hebrew,  the  Protestant;  it  belongs  to  life, 
temporal  and  eternal,  to  life  of  God  and  of 
man. 

To  such  a  life  the  college  has  sought  to  lead 
you.  To  such  a  life  the  college  sends  you 
forth. 

[130] 


UNIVERSITIES  OF  THE  WORLD 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Classes: 

I  have  spoken  to  you  out  of  large  interpre- 
tations, out  of  great  histories,  out  of  your 
experiences;  I  have  spoken  out  of  our  common 
past.  But  while  I  have  been  speaking  we  have 
thought  together  of  your  future.  Ah,  that 
future!  For  it  I  have  no  analysis,  no  prophesy, 
no  anxiety  indeed.  Rather  for  that  future 
I  have  with  you  a  prayer,  a  prayer  for  all  that 
is  best  and  noblest  and  richest  for  you.  My 
prayer  is  that  all  the  best  of  your  past  may  be 
made  yet  better  in  the  unending  time  that  is 
yours. 


[131] 


VIII 
THE  FOUR-SQUARE  MAN 


Chapter  VIII 

THE  FOUR-SQUARE  MAN 
11911] 

"  And  the  city  lleth  foursquare:  on  the  east  three  gates; 
on  the  north  three  gates;  on  the  south  three  gates;  and 
on  the  west  three  gates." — Revelation  xxi:  16  and  13. 

THE  splendid  panorama  of  the  chapter 
whence  are  taken  these  texts  gains  its 
splendor  from  values  known  to  man. 
But  these  splendors  are  only  an  environment 
for  the  Divine  One  and  for  man  made  in  the 
divine  image.  It  is  neither  the  new  heaven 
nor  the  new  earth  nor  the  foundations  of  the 
city's  walls,  garnished  with  all  manner  of 
precious  stones  which  form  the  splendor  and 
the  beauty,  but  it  is  the  Lord  God  Almighty: 
for  the  Glory  of  God  lightens  it  and  the  Lamb 
is  the  light  thereof.  The  conqueror  has  also 
here  his  place.  He  that  overcometh  inherits 
all  things.  God  is  his  Father  and  he  God's 
son. 

It  is  not  therefore  a  far  cry  to  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  four-square  city  of  God  as  a 
type  of  the  man  who  is  also  four-square  and 
[135] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

perfected.  Like  that  city,  man  has  also  four 
sides,  or  parts,  and  also  like  the  walls  of  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem,  man  has  a  trinity  of 
approaches  to  each  of  these  sides  of  his  four- 
square character. 

The  first  side  in  man's  four-square  character 
which  one  meets  is  the  regard  which  man  has 
for  himself.  Man  can  think  of  himself  as  a 
second  or  a  third  person.  He  can  altruize 
himself.'  He  puts  himself  beneath  his  own 
ear  or  eye  of  observation. 

As  man  studies  himself  he  finds  three  most 
important  relations,  or  elements.  He  think^ 
he  feels,  he  chooses.  These  elements,  or  forces, 
hold  also  an  important  relation  to  the  college. 
The  college  uses  the  intellect  most  constantly 
and  fruitfully.  Its  function  is,  not  to  cram 
intellect  with  knowledge,  but  so  to  use 
knowledge  that  the  intellect  shall  become  the 
forceful  and  delicate  instrument  of  thought. 
Modern  education  is  concerned  altogether  too 
much  with  the  content  of  knowledge  and  not 
sufficiently  with  the  mind  of  the  man  to  be 
educated.  Confusion  has  resulted  in  the 
educational  process  through  the  vast  increase 
in  the  stores  of  knowledge. 

The  enlargement  in  every  field,  linguistic, 
historical,  literary,  social,  economic,  political, 

[  136  ] 


THE  FOUR-SQUARE  MAN^ 

has  been  tremendous.  In  the  old  college,  the 
student  could  learn  all  that  the  college  offered. 
In  the  new  college  he  has  sometimes  thought 
that  he  ought  to  try  to  learn  all  that  the  college 
offered.  In  consequence  he  has  become  con- 
fused, and  sometimes  confounded.  He  is  to 
learn,  and  the  college  is  to  learn,  that  out  of 
this  vast  variety  he  is  to  select  those  studies 
which  minister  to  the  enlargement,  the  growth, 
the  strengthening  of  his  whole  mind.  Different 
minds  are  enlarged,  strengthened,  fostered  by 
different  knowledges.  The  college  should  min- 
ister to  each.  Therefore  the  college  should 
set  forth  a  fitting  variety  commensurate  with 
the  whole  scheme  of  things.  But  the  student 
should  select  that  which  ministers  most  directly 
and  powerfully  to  his  individual  thinking. 
Any  other  process  is  waste, —  waste  of  mind, 
which  represents  the  saddest  of  all  wastes. 
But  the  content  is  not  the  only  element.  The 
teacher  is  more  significant. 

The  college  man  studying  himself  knows 
that  he  has  a  heart,  —  he  feels,  he  loves,  he 
hates,  he  exults,  he  is  depressed.  The  peril  of 
the  college  man  and  woman  is,  that  they 
forget  the  heart  side  of  life.  It  is  the  doorway 
which  opens  to  the  great  temple  of  humanity 
itself.  No  fullness  of  knowledge,  no  accuracy 
[1371 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

or  comprehensiveness  of  thought,  should  for 
a  moment  be  suffered  to  dry  up  these  central 
springs  of  feeling.  We  know  men  in  whom 
education  has  seemed  to  produce  ansemia. 
Blood  has  lost  its  redness;  temperature  runs 
low.  Such  a  result  is  too  high  a  price  to  pay 
for  the  discipline  of  the  intellect. 

Man  also  thinks  of  himself  as  a  will.  The 
peril  of  the  earlier  education  was  through 
intellectual  remoteness  to  lessen  the  willing 
power  of  the  student.  The  peril  of  modern 
education  is  possibly  to  exercise  the  will  so 
constantly  that  not  sufficient  force  is  left  to 
nourish  the  intellect.  The  will  is  through  the 
avocations  of  the  college  to  be  strengthened; 
as  the  intellect,  through  the  vocation  of  the 
college,  is  to  be  disciplined  and  to  be  made 
a  proper  guide  for  the  choices  of  the  will 
itself. 

The  intellect,  the  heart,  the  will,  these  are 
three  gates  which  man  finds  in  the  thought 
which  he  has  of  himself. 

A  second  side  of  the  four-square  college  man 
is  the  thought  he  has  of  his  work.  Who  is 
the  Frenchman  who  said,  "  Life  is  given  as  a 
judgment,  but  work  as  a  reward".'*  Toward 
his  work  man  holds  at  least  three  relations. 
He  is  first  to  respect  it:  it  is  to  be  a  work  wor- 
[  138  ] 


THE  FOUR-SQUARE  MAN 

thy  of  his  respect.  It  is  to  be  a  work  worthy 
of  his  respect  because  of  the  service  which  it 
renders  to  humanity.  Some  of  you  have 
chosen  your  life  work.  That  choice  will  prove 
to  be  lasting.  Some  of  you  have  chosen  your 
life  work,  and  that  choice  will,  for  reason  good 
or  bad,  be  changed.  Some  of  you  have  not 
chosen  your  life  work.  But  whether  chosen 
or  unchosen,  that  work  does  represent  a  funda- 
mental principle  of  your  being.  It  represents 
a  special  force  or  method  by  which  you  will 
become  a  creator.  You  stand,  as  it  were, 
before  your  life  work,  as  the  Almighty  Creator 
stood  before  void  and  vacant  space  on  the  first 
morning  of  the  creation.  The  hour  represents 
the  mightiest  and  most  pregnant  of  all  oppor- 
tunities, fraught  with  imperishable  conse- 
quences. But  below,  and  above  and  around  all 
minor  choices  rest  the  opportunity  and  the 
duty  of  a  choice  eternal  in  time  and  universal 
in  space.  On  the  night  in  which  Charles 
Kingsley  became  twenty-one  years  of  age  he 
wrote:  "  My  birthnight.  I  have  been  for  the 
last  hour  on  the  seashore,  not  dreaming,  but 
thinking  deeply  and  strongly,  and  forming 
determinations  which  are  to  affect  my  destiny 
through  time  and  through  eternity.  Before 
the  sleeping  earth  and  the  sleepless  sea  and 
[139] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

stars  I  have  devoted  myself  to  God:  a  vow 
never  (if  He  gives  me  the  faith  I  pray  for)  to 
be  recalled." 

Whatever  the  calling  may  be  to  which  you 
devote  yourself,  know  that  you  are  called  by 
and  for  and  of  God. 

In  your  thought  of  your  work  you  are  yet 
not  to  forget  the  duty  of  aptness  for  it.  You 
are  to  become  an  expert.  You  are  to  know 
your  special  work,  said  Emerson,  if  you  do 
not  you  are  undone.  One  great  contribution 
of  the  last  thirty  years  is  the  increasing  respect 
for  the  expert.  The  opinion  of  the  mind 
trained  to  judge  evidence  in  each  of  the  great 
fields  of  endeavor  is  held  in  increasingly  higher 
regard.  The  world  has  come  to  be  able  to 
afford  the  expert.  The  division  of  labor 
permits  his  training.  Therefore  in  your  special 
work  make  yourself  just  as  able  as  you  can. 
Be  willing  to  spend  years  of  hardest  toil  in 
order  to  become  a  supreme  master. 

It  is  also  not  to  be  forgotten  in  thinking  of 
your  work,  that  your  work,  going  out  from  you, 
will|return  tofyou  and  will  educate  you,  the 
worker.  Your  hand  should  not  be  formed  into 
the  tool  which  it  handles,  but  the  tool  should 
form,  enlarge,  refine  the  hand.  The  faithful- 
ness with  which  you   do  your  work   should 

[  140  ] 


THE  FOUR-SQUARE  MAN 

make  you  a  man  more  faithful.  The  place 
where  you  work  should  not  be  a  prison,  much 
less  a  brazen  one,  as  Matthew  Arnold  says, 
but  it  should  be  a  palace,  with  skylights.  Let 
your  work  be  so  noble,  so  fine  that  in  its 
reaction  on  you,  it  will  make  you  finer  and 
nobler. 

A  third  side  of  you,  a  four-square  being,  is 
your  thought  of  man.  On  this  side  are  three 
gateways  of  honor,  love,  and  co-operation. 
The  three  gateways  are  closely  joined  together 
and  form  one  great  way  of  approach.  Man  is 
more  than  his  work,  and  humanity  is  more 
than  all  its  achievements.  The  word  "  means  " 
always  seems  to  me  significant.  We  ask  if 
A.  B.  is  a  man  of  large  means,  inquiring  is  he 
rich?  The  very  question  indicates  the  sub- 
ordination of  wealth  to  manhood.  Wealth  is 
a  means,  a  measure,  a  method  to,  and  of, 
and  by,  man.  Man  is  most  worthy  of  honor. 
Made  in  God's  image  he  is  declared  to  be, 
which  indicates  that  God  honors  humanity 
by  existing  in  its  image.  The  honor  paid  to 
man  is  in  its  essence  an  honor  paid  to  divinity. 
Fallen,  stained,  wretched,  bereft,  every  hu- 
man life  has  still  in  itself  a  bit  of  the  divine. 
Honor  it. 

With  honor  is  joined  the  gateway  of  love. 
[141] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

The  command  of  Christ  to  love  your  neighbor 
as  yourself  is  too  narrow,  too  low.  It  ought 
to  be  as  it  is,  supplanted  by  Christ's  new  com- 
mandment that  ye  love  one  another  as  I  have 
loved  you.  You  are  to  love  your  neighbor 
more  than  you  love  yourself.  You  would 
prefer  to  cheat  yourself,  or  to  do  harm  to 
yourself  rather  than  to  cheat  or  to  do  harm  to 
your  neighbor.  How  did  Christ  love?  He 
loved  unto  death;  thus  you  are  to  love  the 
world. 

The  humanity  which  you  honor  and  love 
you  are  to  co-operate  with.  With  men,  as 
well  as  for  them,  are  you  to  labor.  We  know 
great  souls,  strong  personalities,  who  cannot 
work  with  other  men.  Their  service,  which 
ought  to  be  great,  becomes  weakness.  I 
knew  two  great  men  who  once  served  as  college 
presidents,  whose  administrations  were  stormy 
and  largely  fruitless  because  they  could  not 
work  with  their  associates.  If  college  men 
fail  in  their  life's  career,  they  fail  for  one  of 
two  reasons,  either  moral  weakness  or  in- 
ability to  get  on  with  men.  They  are  either 
weak  In  will  or  are  cantankerous.  Of  these 
two  causes  of  failure,  cantankerousness  is  the 
more  common.  Work  with  men,  like  yourself, 
unlike  yourself,  weak  men,  wicked  men, 
[142] 


THE  FOUR-SQUARE  MAN 

strong  men,  good  men:  work  with  them  in 
honor  and  love  for  all  men. 

The  fourth  side  of  the  four-square  man  bears 
the  name  "  The  Thought  of  God."  God,  to 
know  him  is  impossible.  Your  thought  of 
him  must  be  very  inadequate.  But  your 
thought  of  him  is  of  supreme  consequence  to 
yourself,  as  his  being  is  of  supreme  consequence 
to  your  being.  In  your  thought  of  him  is  set 
therefore  the  great  gateway  of  mystery.  Him 
you  cannot  know.  The  finite  never  compre- 
hends the  infinite,  time  never  overtakes 
eternity.  Beyond  the  farthest  reach  of  space 
is  still  endlessness.  A  God  whom  you  can 
know  is  no  God.  Christ  came  as  a  revelation 
of  God,  but  even  knowing  Christ,  Son  of  Man, 
Son  of  God,  you  cannot  know  God  because  of 
the  limitation  of  your  powers  of  knowing. 
You  could  see  the  universe  if  you  had  the  eye 
of  the  universe.  You  could  know  God  if  you 
were  God.  Only  God  knows  God.  Therefore 
you  stand  in  mystery  as  you  think  of  the 
infinite  Being. 

But  by  the  side  of  the  gateway  of  mystery 
stands  the  gateway  marked  "  Obedience." 
Your  sovereign  you  may  not  know,  but  his 
laws  you  may  read  and  observe.  The  most 
important   laws;    pf   God    are    most   evident. 

[143] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

They  form  the  cardinal  virtues,  the  great 
hinge  principles  of  character;  justice,  tem- 
perance, bravery  are  among  them.  The  laws 
of  God  are  also  the  graces  that  are  summed 
up  in  graciousness,  favor  to  the  ill-deserving. 
The  ten  commandments  of  the  twentieth  of 
Exodus  are  among  his  laws,  good  for  the  State 
and  the  individual  today  as  they  were  good 
for  the  Jewish  theocracy  of  four  thousand 
years  ago.  The  graces  of  the  fifth  of  Matthew, 
the  Beatitudes  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount, 
are  as  precious  today  for  the  common  planes 
of  our  living  as  they  were  for  the  disciples  on 
the  mountainside  two  thousand  years  ago. 
Your  thought  of  God  includes  obedience  to 
those  fundamental  instincts  and  principles 
which  help  to  constitute  not  only  the  great 
state  but  also  the  pure  family  and  the  noble 
individual  person.  To  those  instincts  of  sym- 
pathy, helpfulness,  purity,  love,  you  are  to  be 
joyfully  obedient. 

In  your  thought,  also,  of  God,  is  set  the 
gateway  of  worship.  God  dwells  in  mystery, 
but  of  him  we  do  know  sufficient  to  worship. 
The  greatest  of  modern  philosophers  has  said 
that  the  two  most  awful  elements  in  life  are  the 
heavens  at  night  and  the  moral  law,  "  I 
Qught/'    These    two    great    §olemnitieSj  and 

[144] 


THE  FOUR-SQUARE  MAN 

more,  are  embodied  in  our  worship  of  the 
Eternal.  To  the  conscience  within,  to  the 
majesty  of  the  nightly  heaven,  let  there  be 
added  the  grandeur  of  the  fathomless  ocean 
and  the  eternity  of  ever-ceasing  and  never- 
ceasing  time.  And  the  infinities  of  Personality, 
whose  power  is  omnipotence,  whose  knowledge 
is  omniscience,  whose  presence  is  omni- 
presence, let  all  these  be  united  together  and 
let  the  individual  man  seek  to  approach  unto 
Him.  This  approach  is  worship,  worship  of 
God. 

And  the  city  lieth  four-square.  The  city 
is  man.  On  the  one  side  of  the  square,  man's 
thought  of  himself;  on  a  second  side,  man's 
thought  of  his  work;  on  the  third  side, 
man's  thought  of  man;  on  the  fourth  side, 
man's  thought  of  God. 

On  the  east  three  gates,  on  the  north  three 
gates,  on  the  south  three  gates  and  on  the 
west  three  gates.  In  man's  thought  of  himself 
are  found  the  gateways  of  intellect,  of  heart 
and  of  will.  On  the  side  of  man's  thought  of 
his  work  are  found  the  gateways  of  respect 
of  his  work,  of  aptness  for  doing  it,  and  of 
education  through  it.  On  the  side  of  man's 
thought  of  man  are  found  the  triple  gateways 
pf   honor,   of   love,  of   co-operation.     On    the 

[  145  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

fourth  side  is  found  man's  thought  of  God. 
In  this  infinite  wall  are  set  the  gateways  of 
mystery,  of  obedience  to  God,  and  of  worship 
of  Him.  Such  is  my  thought  of  the  four- 
square man,  which  I  would  have  you  each  be. 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Classes: 

You  will  recall  that  it  is  said  one  side  of 
the  four-square  city  lies  toward  the  east,  one 
side  toward  the  north,  one  side  toward  the 
south  and  one  side  toward  the  west.  Such  are 
the  relations  of  your  life  and  of  your  character. 

On  the  one  side  are  found  the  origin  and  the 
source  of  your  being.  It  stands  for  the  sun- 
rising  of  the  east.  The  north  may  represent 
the  cold  and  the  chill  and  the  remoteness  of 
your  nature,  but  in  it  shall  be  found  superb 
vigor  and  mighty  strength.  The  south  shall 
stand  for  the  sunniness  and  warmth  of  your 
heart  turned  toward  all  men.  The  west  shall 
point  toward  the  close  of  your  life's  brief  day, 
but  it  also  shall,  in  the  passing  of  the  endless 
years,  represent  the  transmitting  of  your  west 
into  some  east,  whose  sun  shall  be  forever 
rising,  but  never  coming  to  its  declining. 

I  wish  for  you  each  that  as  you  are  of  God, 
you  also  may  dwell  in  Him,  and  that  as  you  are 
human,  you  may  dwell  with  men,  and  that  as 
[146] 


THE  FOUR-SQUARE  MAN 

your  sun,  rising  well  in  the  eastern  sky,  passes 
on  over  its  zenith  into  the  evening  hour,  the 
promise  of  the  morning  shall  be  assured  in 
the^beauty  and  the  splendor  which  belongs  to 
the  eternal  city  of  God. 


[147] 


IX 

PUBLIC  DISORDER  AND  THE 
HIGHER  EDUCATION 


Chapter  IX 

PUBLIC  DISORDER  AND  THE  HIGHER 
EDUCATION 

[1912] 

"  And  ye  shall  hear  of  wars  and  of  rumors  of  wars." — 
Matthew  xxiv:  6. 

IT  is  an  insurglng  world.  Man  is  rebelling 
against  his  institutions.  The  longer  exist- 
ing and  more  natural  are  these  forces, 
agencies,  and  conditions,  the  more  rebellious 
does  he  seem  to  be.  After  many  years  of 
armed  civil  peace  our  nearest  foreign  neighbor 
of  the  south  is  in  sedition.  Overseas,  in  the 
twelve  months  since  we  gathered  in  this  place, 
England  has  passed  through  two  crises  which 
have  demoralized  industry,  strained  the  Eng- 
lish Constitution,  brought  havoc  to  the  regular 
and  recognized  methods  of  life,  flung  millions 
into  anxiety,  and  brought  death  to  hundreds  of 
lives.  In  this  time  the  ancient  power  of  Persia 
has  been  in  the  travail  of  revolution,  the  Italian 
Government  has  sought  with  menace  and 
bloodshed  to  regain  a  long-lost  hold  in  North 
Africa,  and  certain  parts  and  classes  of  the 

[151] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

European  and  Asiatic  Empire  of  the  Czar  have 
been  saved  from  revolution  by  the  crushing 
hand  of  military  despotism.  India,  at  peace 
for  a  time,  knows  that  any  day  there  may 
break  forth  the  flames  of  unrest  and  of  anarchy. 
Above  all,  China  has  within  these  last  months 
expelled  its  rulers,  and  in  the  midst  of  provin- 
cial revolution  estabHshed  a  republic  for  which 
every  American  has  best  wishes.  Today,  in 
our  couhtry,  the  hate  of  partizan  passion  within 
party  and  the  hate  of  partizan  passion  without 
and  against  party  inflames  the  mind  and 
heart  of  every  citizen.  More  than  one-half 
of  the  world  is  in  rebellion.  The  world  is 
an  insurging  world.  The  insurging  is  po- 
litical. 

The  insurging  is  also  social.  The  Victorian 
age  has,  like  a  late  staying  guest,  finally  passed 
out.  The  era  of  good  feeling  has  vanished. 
The  social  quietness,  the  mediocre  respect- 
ability, the  timid  decorousness,  the  life  which 
was  comparative  because  it  was  not  superlative, 
the  era  of  ideals,  but  of  ideals  so  low  that  they 
did  not  create  despair  in  trying  to  attain  unto 
them,  nor  so  high  that  they  quickened  great 
enthusiasm  in  the  probability  of  reaching 
them,  have  all  gone,  both  in  England  and 
America.     We  have   passed   from   an   age  of 

[152] 


PUBLIC  DISORDER 

statics  into  the  age  of  dynamics.  We  have 
come  into  the  age  of  force,  forces,  and  of 
forcefulness.  We  have  entered  from  condi- 
tions into  movements.  The  age  of  indi- 
vidualism becoming  aggressiveness;  of  aggres- 
siveness becoming  unrest;  of  unrest  becoming 
social  and  industrial  reformation;  of  reforma- 
tion becoming  social  and  industrial  revolution; 
of  revolution  tending  toward  anarchy,  seems 
at  last  to  have  come  upon  us. 

This  state  is  industrial,  moreover,  as  well  as 
social  and  political. 

The  industrial  unrest  in  the  United  States 
and  in  Western  Europe  is  more  than  evident. 
Most  great  producers  or  distributors  of  goods, 
of  steel,  iron,  coal,  cotton,  and  woolen  fabrics; 
most  carrying  systems,  steam,  electric  and 
water,  involving  scores  of  trades  and  hundreds 
of  thousands,  even  millions,  of  workmen,  are 
in  constant  jeopardy  of  positive  interruption, 
or  of  annihilation.  A  twenty-four  hour  notice 
given  by  the  Directors  of  Trades  Unions  and 
Labor  Federations  may  stop  thousands  of 
trades,  interrupt  the  recognized  channels  of 
communication,  throw  society  into  chaos  and 
may  bring  certain  countries  like  England,  with 
twelve  days  of  rations  ahead,  to  the  actual 
borders  of  starvation.  The  industrial  world 
[153] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

is  so  builded  together  and  tied  up,  part  by 
and  to  part,  that  disorder  in  any  one  part 
produces,  or  tends  to  produce,  disorder  in  every 
part.  This  unity  belongs  not  only  to  industrial 
processes  but  also  to  the  industrial  workmen. 
Workmen  are  banded  together  in  ascending 
scales  of  comprehensiveness.  The  dock  la- 
borers have  their  union.  The  railroad  em- 
ployees have  theirs.  Both  may  be  members  of 
a  Federation  of  Carriers,  and  the  Federation  of 
Carriers  may  be  members  of  some  higher  unit. 
Not  only  are  these  unions  national,  but  also 
they  are  international.  They  cover  the  world. 
This  industrial  unrest  is  indeed  no  new 
thing.  But  it  is  to  be  said  that  it  tends  to 
increase  in  intensity.  Working  men  are  be- 
coming conscious  of  their  power  when  they  are 
joined  together.  They  have  entered  politics 
and  the  Labor  Party  is  a  recognized  politi- 
cal and  civil  body.  Both  in  the  United  States 
and  in  England,  the  Labor  Party  becomes  a 
distinct  force  in  the  great  parties.  Without 
its  help,  the  Liberal  Party  in  England  would  be 
unable  to  maintain  itself  in  power.  In  America 
the  decision  of  the  Labor  Party  to  work  with 
or  against  the  Republican  or  the  Democratic 
organization,  would  probably  determine  an 
election.  But  be  it  said,  that  not  a  few  leaders 
[154] 


PUBLIC  DISORDER 

of  the  working  men  have  come  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  they  can  more  effectively,  as  well  as 
more  speedily,  get  what  they  want  to  get,  by 
Revolution  than  by  Legislation. 

Industrial  war  is,  therefore,  the  declared 
resulting  process.  War  is  war,  whether  the 
warfare  be  rifles,  or  a  strike,  and  picketing  is 
picketing,  whether  it  be  along  the  Rhine,  or 
about  the  docks  of  the  Hudson  or  of  the 
Thames;  and  In  neither  case  can  such  picketing 
be  described  as  peaceful. 

It  must,  I  think,  be  usually  granted  that  the 
history  of  arbitration  methods,  conciliation 
boards,  and  other  agencies  for  avoiding  or  ad- 
justing strikes  and  lockouts,  has  for  the  past 
twenty-five  years  been  rather  a  sorry  record. 
Agreements,  hard  to  arrive  at,  have  been  easily 
broken.  Understandings  become  speedily  mis- 
understandings. Misunderstandings  produce 
suspicions,  and  suspicions  eventuate  readily  in 
quarrels.  The  result  is,  that  the  employer  of 
large  numbers  of  workmen,  and  the  great 
bodies  of  workmen  themselves,  are  constantly, 
when  not  engaged  in  declared  war.  In  a  con- 
dition of  armed  neutrality.  The  white  flag  of 
truce  flies  no  small  share  of  the  time,  but  it  is 
easily  and  frequently  displaced  by  the  red  flag. 
But  be  it  said:  the  white  flag  stands  for  only 
[155] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

a  truce,  and  the  red  does  stand  for  active  and 
alert  campaigning. 

The  industrial  unrest  is  both  the  cause  and 
result  of  socialism.  Gladstone  said,  near  the 
close  of  his  unique  career,  that  socialism  formed 
the  next  question  for  humanity  to  take  up. 
Towards  the  close  of  his  long  life,  John  Stuart 
Mill  made  a  similar  intimation:  **  Socialism 
has  for  better  or  for  worse  come  to  pervade 
society  in  both  Europe  and  the  United  States 
more  generally  and  more  deeply  than  is 
commonly  believed." 

Go  to  Oxford,  or  to  Cambridge,  and  one 
finds  socialism  moving  in  the  atmosphere, 
filling  the  hearts  of  many  disciples,  and  of  as 
many  apostles.  In  scores  of  American  colleges, 
little  bands  of  these  socialist  workers  and 
speakers  are  found.  In  theological  seminaries, 
both  among  students  and  teachers,  are  enrolled 
adherents  and  expounders.  I  am  not  now 
declaring  against  the  thing  itself,  or  against 
this  propagandism.  I  am  simply  interpreting 
such  a  condition  as  existing  among  college  men 
and  intimating  that  it  is  profoundly  significant. 
For  the  belief  of  the  abler  and  more  serious 
college  men  of  one  age  will  become  the  belief 
of  the  people  of  the  next  generation,  and  the 
practice  of  the  generation  still  following. 
[  156  ] 


PUBLIC  DISORDER 

As  I  have  said,  this  unrest  is  industrial, 
social  and  political.  But  the  movement  has 
gone  far  beyond  the  legislative  process  in  its 
radicalism.  It  seems  to  bear  recollections 
of  the  Reign  of  Terror,  and  of  the  Commune. 
The  French  Revolution  helped  to  give  Europe 
(excepting  England,  which  got  its  liberty  in  the 
peaceful  Revolution  of  1688)  liberty  and 
nationality.  The  present  movement  is  not 
concerned  with  either  liberty  or  nationality. 
Its  cry  is  A  Living  Wage."  Its  demand  is 
for  "  Meat."  (It  has  bread.)  Its  will  is  for 
"  Opportunity."     It  wants  the  "  Open  Door." 

A  comprehensive  remark  to  be  made  about 
these  movements  more  or  less  allied,  and  about 
the  people  who  constitute  these  movements, 
themselves  more  or  less  diversified,  is  that  these 
masses,  on  the  one  side,  worlcmen,  employees, 
and  on  the  other  side,  the  classes,  capitalists, 
or  employers,  are  exceedingly  antagonistic  to 
each  other.  They  regard  themselves,  or  at 
least  are  inclined  to  regard  themselves,  as 
enemies.  The  workmen  often,  too  often,  hate 
the  employer,  and  the  employer  often,  too 
often,  is  indifferent  to  the  workmen.  Ad- 
vantages gained  by  one  are  regarded  as  a  loss 
to  the  other;  disadvantages  suffered  by  one 
are  interpreted  as  advantages  gained  by  the 

[157] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

other.  The  workmen  think  of  their  em- 
ployers as  tyrants,  and  believe  that  the  em- 
ployers look  on  them  as  machines  to  be  run  at 
the  highest  efficiency,  and,  when  worn  out, 
to  be  flung  on  the  human  scrap-pile.  The 
employers  regard,  or  give  some  reason  for  be- 
lieving that  they  regard,  the  workmen  as  men 
who  are  chiefly  interested  in  doing  the  least 
work  for  the  most  money,  who  are  willing  to 
break  their  promises,  careless  of  their  em- 
ployers' rights,  regardless  of  their  own  duties, 
without  conscientiousness  or  zeal.  Such  an- 
tagonisms are  not  universal,  but  such  antago- 
nisms are  altogether  too  general.  This  condi- 
tion, inexpressibly  sad,  has  arisen  in  part  at 
least  from  the  remoteness  of  the  employer 
and  the  employee.  The  growth  of  all  industrial 
undertakings,  to  embrace  thousands  or  tens  of 
thousands  of  workmen,  makes  it  impossible  for 
the  individual  employer  to  know  the  indi- 
vidual workman.  The  workman  comes  to  be 
known  as  a  number,  and  ceases  to  be  a  per- 
sonality. Humanity  is  thus  submerged  on 
both  sides  and  with  this  submersion  spring  up 
dislikes,  recriminations,  enmities  of  all  sorts. 

I  suppose  it  must  also  be  confessed  that  the 
leadership  of  these  movements  is  inadequate. 
It  is  a  leadership  intense  and  narrow.     It  is 

[  1581] 


PUBLIC  DISORDER 

inclined  to  see  one  side  only.  That  justice  lies 
with  the  workmen  and  injustice  with  the  em- 
ployer and  capitalist  is  too  often  the  pre- 
sumption that  lies  behind  all  reflection,  and 
that  forms  the  basis  of  executive  procedure. 
The  duty  owed  the  people,  the  general  in- 
terests of  the  community,  have  a  small  part 
in  deliberation  or  decision.  That  the  employer 
IS  completely  free  from  guilt  is  never  for  one 
instant  to  be  intimated.  Many  years  ago  the 
reported  remark  from  the  head  of  a  great 
railway  system  that  "  Let  the  public  be 
damned "  became  a  noisome  stench  in  the 
public  nostrils. 

It  is  true  that  there  are  exceptions  to  the 
narrowness  of  the  leadership  under  which 
workmen  move.  John  Mitchell  is  an  excep- 
tion; but  the  dislike  for  one  of  his  large  type 
helps  to  prove  the  proposition  as  it  refers  to 
America.  John  Burns  is  also  an  exception, 
but  the  dislike  of  many  workingmen  for  John 
Burns  helps  to  prove  the  chief  proposition. 

Now,  in  this  condition,  sketched  so  imper- 
fectly in  broad  lines,  "  What  can  the  college  and 
the  universities  do  to  make  things  better?  "  The 
question  is  significant.  For  the  higher  educa- 
tion does  not  desire  to  nurse  a  fugitive  and 
cloistered  virtue.  It  desires  to  serve  —  as  it 
[159] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

ought  to  serve  —  the  highest,  broadest,  deepest, 
and  most  enduring  interests  of  man. 

The  higher  education  can  help  its  students  to 
look  at  facts  as  they  are,  and  to  weigh  the 
evidence  which  these  facts  present.  Of  course, 
the  colleges  have  always  been  seeking  to  achieve 
this  result.  The  colleges  have  always  been 
trying  to  teach  the  significant  fact  that  two 
and  two  make  four.  A  significant  fact,  indeed, 
for  always  there  are  some  in  the  community 
who  are  trying  to  squeeze  two  and  two  into 
three,  and  an  equal  number  who  are  trying  to 
enlarge  them  into  five.  In  the  training  of  this 
power  of  looking  at  facts  as  they  are,  and  in 
weighing  evidence,  lies  the  worth  of  education. 
But  the  college  has  a  special  duty  laid  upon 
itself  of  transmuting  this  general  obligation 
into  a  duty  specific  and  particular.  For  to  the 
great  social  and  industrial  facts  one  is  specially 
liable  to  be  blind.  The  facts  are  not  like  the 
reforms  of  the  Gracchi  —  remote.  They  are 
immediate.  So  close  are  they  that  it  is  diflScult 
to  see  them  as  they  are,  to  interpret  their  re- 
lations, to  point  out  their  significance,  or  to 
lay  down  a  course  of  conduct  based  upon  their 
meanings.  But  they  are  pregnant  with  new 
births  for  men.  Their  nearness  generates 
passion.  Truth's  white  light  has  a  small 
[160] 


PUBLIC  DISORDER 

chance  for  shining.  For  better  or  worse,  for 
destruction,  or  for  construction  in  this  difficult 
environment,  they  must  be  interpreted.  Such 
interpretation,  the  college  can  inspire  its  men 
to  seek  to  make.  It  should  help  men  to  see 
these  phenomena  sanely  and  steadily,  and  to 
see  them  whole. 

The  college,  further,  may  give  greater  place 
to  what  I  call  the  human  sciences.  These 
sciences  include  history,  economics,  govern- 
ment, and  sociology.  The  increase  in  the  em- 
phasis laid  on  these  subjects  has,  in  a  score  of 
years,  been  vast.  It  is  hardly  possible  to 
exaggerate  the  increase.  It  is  not  for  me  to 
depreciate  the  worth  of  the  natural  sciences, 
either  as  intellectual  disciplines  or  as  revela- 
tions of  the  wonders  of  the  creative  process. 
Let  the  natural  sciences  have  their  full  and 
adequate  place.  But  I  do  believe  the  social 
and  industrial  conditions  demand  that  college 
graduates  shall  go  forth  with  some  under- 
standing of  the  complexity  and  seriousness  of 
these  conditions.  For  under  these  conditions, 
the  people  are  misled.  Political  and  civil 
harm  results.  The  disease  spreads.  The  pa- 
tient grows  worse.  Where  can  help  be  found? 
I  know  too  well  the  imperfections  and  weak- 
nesses of  the  colleges.  But  if  help  is  coming,  it 
[161] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

must  come  in  accordance  with  the  great  human 
laws  which  are  as  real  as,  though  harder  to 
understand  than,  the  great  laws  of  nature. 
These  laws,  these  principles,  of  social,  political, 
civil,  and  industrial  well-being  are  studied, 
considered,  related  to  each  other  in  the  colleges 
and  universities.  The  men  who  have  been 
students  of  these  laws  and  principles  are  above 
all  others  best  qualified  to  apply  these  laws  to 
the  body  politic  and  social.  Humanity  goes  on 
repeating  its  experiments  which  have  failed. 
Its  memory  is  short.  The  colleges  stand  for 
accumulated  thought.  They  represent  and 
present  the  history  of  human  experimentation. 
The  colleges  should  save  men,  at  least  some- 
what, from  repeating  their  great  social  errors 
and  mistakes.  The  result  of  all  the  help  the 
colleges  can  give  will  be  poor  enough,  but  these 
results  are  the  most  precious  and  effective 
which  humanity  in  its  present  stage  of  culti- 
vation can  attain  unto. 

But  there  is  a  further  method  which  the 
colleges  may  use  in  overcoming  the  anarchistic 
tendencies  of  the  social  and  industrial  move- 
ment. This  method  consists  in  the  establish- 
ment of  departments  of  the  human  sciences, 
for  the  special  advantage  of  men  of  mature 
years  who  are  especially  interested  in  these 
[  162  ] 


PUBLIC  DISORDER 

subjects  and  who  have  not  been  able,  by 
reason  of  their  Hmitations,  to  give  themselves 
a  proper  education.  This  suggestion  is  by  no 
means  new.  It  bears  memories  of  move- 
ments which  have  a  somewhat  prolonged 
history.  The  workingmen's  colleges  of  fifty 
years  ago,  in  which  the  noble  Maurice  and  the 
versatile  Kingsley  were  founders  and  sponsors 
and  supporters,  embody  the  same  great  idea. 
Today  no  better  exponent  of  the  movement  is 
found  than  is  incarnated  in  Ruskin  College 
at  Oxford.  The  difficulties  in  laying  such  a 
foundation  are  neither  few  in  number  nor  slight. 
The  ordinary  members  of  a  college  faculty  are 
seldom  able  to  undertake  such  a  task.  Their 
duties  are  altogether  too  heavy  for  any  such 
permanent  additional  service.  For  a  brief 
time  they  may  take  such  work  upon  them- 
selves but  not  as  a  lasting  service.  A  special 
staff,  therefore,  is  to  be  organized;  and  such 
a  staff,  competent  in  mind  and  conscience,  is 
hard  to  secure.  Furthermore,  many  men  de- 
siring to  become  students  are  found  to  lack  a 
proper  general  education.  They  have  not 
the  intellectual  qualifications  to  take  up  special 
social  studies,  than  which  no  subjects  are  more 
complex.  Their  eagerness  and  enthusiasm  go 
a  certain  way  —  with  some  men,  a  long  way  — 

[163] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

in  overcoming  the  lack  of  trained  mental 
power;  but  enthusiasm  cannot  be  accepted  as 
a  substitute  for  a  trained  intellect.  Though, 
therefore,  every  college  may  well  consider  the 
question  of  offering  such  courses,  especially  if 
placed  in  the  midst  of  an  urban  community, 
yet  the  outlook  is  not  bright  for  results  either 
comprehensive  or  lasting. 

I  am  also  inclined  to  believe  that  the  regular 
college  officers  may  make  a  most  effective  use 
of  their  own  wisdom  and  counsels  in  securing 
the  great  end  of  social  and  industrial  peace. 
It  is  a  perilous  thing  for  a  professor  or  president 
to  give  specific  advice  to  a  new  student  re- 
garding the  choice  of  a  calling.  Principles  he 
may  lay  down.  Their  application  should  be 
committed  to  the  man  who  must  bear  the 
responsibilities  of  the  choice.  But  oflficers 
should  feel  free  to  intimate,  and  perhaps  do 
more  than  intimate,  the  opportunities  open  in 
social  service  as  a  vocation,  or  open  even  as 
an  avocation.  I  have  known  the  head  of  an 
institution  of  five  hundred  students  to  make 
plain  suggestions  to  hundreds  in  respect  to  a 
life's  calling.  Jowett,  of  Balliol,  was  a  supreme 
master  in  such  guidance.  It  is  at  this  point 
that  the  college  may  render  especially  effective 
service.  I  have  referred  to  the  lack  of  wise 
[164] 


PUBLIC  DISORDER 

leadership  in  the  great  social  movements. 
Cannot  the  colleges  do  more  in  securing  such 
leadership?  Cannot  the  college  train  men  up 
into  such  intellectual  power  and  with  such 
human  sympathies  that  its  graduates  shall  feel 
the  impulse  to  enter  into  such  communities 
and  be  able  to  merit  such  leadership?  Many 
men  in  college  are,  as  I  have  said,  more  or  less 
socialistic.  If  they,  entering  life  and  taking 
part  either  formally  or  informally  in  these 
tremendous  affairs,  can  keep  their  judgment 
large  and  clear,  they  should  in  time  be  able 
to  give  great  help  in  offering  right  direction 
to  these  movements  unto  the  happiest  results. 
In  quite  a  different  field,  and  one  more  or 
less  non-academic,  it  is  possible  for  the  colleges 
to  put  forth  efforts.  I  have  referred,  as  a  sad 
feature  in  the  social  and  industrial  condition, 
to  the  antagonism  of  the  masses  and  the 
classes.  Can  the  colleges  do  aught  to  mitigate 
such  reciprocal  enmities?  Of  course,  college 
men,  mingling  and  meeting  together  and  going 
out  into  their  diverse  callings  and  relationships, 
are  better  prepared  through  common  knowl- 
edge and  acquaintance  to  promote  comradery. 
But  I  also  believe  that  a  simple  and  genuine 
religious  basis  and  atmosphere  would  aid  in 
dispelling   antagonisms.     Is    there    any    such 

[165] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

basis  on  which  more  men,  college  and  non- 
college,  could  succeed  in  standing?  I  know 
of  one  and  of  only  one.  That  is  Christ's 
Sermon  on  the  Mount.  In  this  Great  Dis- 
course, that  part  which  forms  the  most  fitting 
basis  is  known  as  "  The  Beatitudes^  One 
need  not  be  a  Roman  Catholic  as  such  or  a 
Protestant  as  such;  one  need  not  subscribe  to 
the  occidental  interpretations  of  Christ's  char- 
acter or  words,  interpretations  which  the 
orientals  say  are  wrong  or  false.  But  if  men 
would  agree  to  accept  of  the  words  of  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount  in  respect  to  the  Supreme 
Being,  in  respect  to  altruistic  and  selfward 
duties,  there  would  be  formed  a  deep,  as  well 
as  a  broad,  foundation  for  men  helping  each 
other.  I  wish  to  appeal  for  a  place  for  the  Ten 
Beatitudes.  I  would  write  them  into  a  Creed: 
— "  I  believe  in  humility  of  spirit  and  humble- 
ness of  life;  in  the  comfort  of  those  who  mourn; 
in  the  blessedness  of  those  hungering  and  thirst- 
ing after  righteousness;  in  mercy;  in  the 
vision  of  God  belonging  to  the  pure  in  heart, 
and  in  the  peacemakers  as  the  children  of  God; 
and  I  also  believe  in  the  willingness  of  enduring 
persecution  for  righteousness'  sake,  and  in  the 
blessed  assurance  that  those  who  endure  shall 
have  great  reward." 

[166] 


PUBLIC  DISORDER 

It  may  not  be  further  out  of  place  for  one  to 
say  that  there  is  a  need  today  of  a  revival  of 
the  humanity  of  humanity.  One  can  say  this 
without  running  the  risk  of  being  judged  as 
a  follower  of  Comte.  There  has  been  a 
revival  in  the  study  of,  and  of  love  for,  nature. 
From  being  an  unknown  enemy  of  the  ancients, 
nature  has  become  through  the  stages  of  poetic 
interpretation,  of  sesthetic  appreciation,  and 
of  scientific  research,  a  known  and  great  friend. 
A  similar  transformation  and  elevation  is  surely 
taking  place  in  the  study  of  humanity.  The 
movement  for  arbitration  and  for  peace  among 
nations  is  a  token  of  what  has  been  achieved 
and  is  a  promise  of  what  is  to  be  secured.  The 
present  may  be  a  neap  tide  in  the  process. 
The  sense  of  the  value  of  the  individual  human 
life  seems  to  be  just  now  suffering  an  eclipse, 
but  it  is  a  temporary  one.  The  value  of  men 
as  men,  the  worth  of  humanity  as  humanity, 
the  significance  of  the  human,  is  ever  to  be 
emphasized.  Man  is  neither  a  thing  nor  a 
brute.  He  is  a  man  and  because  he  is  a  man 
he  is  like  unto  God. 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Classes: 

You,  my  friends,  who  are  about  to  graduate, 
are  to  go  forth  from  the  college  into  what  we 
[167] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

call  the  world.  You  are  coming  to  your 
kingdom  at  a  great  time,  a  time  great  in  its 
problems  and  forces.  The  problems  are  many, 
complex,  urgent.  The  forces  are  also  many 
and  powerful.  I  congratulate  you.  You  have 
no  soft  job  to  do,  no  easy  life  to  live.  Thank 
God  that  you  are  able  to  endure  hardness 
without  becoming  hard.  I  do  not  warn  you. 
I  encourage  you,  and  hope  for  you,  and  bless 
you,  and  pray  for  you.  Those  that  be  with 
you  and  for  you  are  more  than  those  that  be 
against  you.  Go  on,  like  Christian  in  Bun- 
yan's  immortal  allegory.  Let  not  Vanity 
Fair  weaken.  Let  not  by-ways  tempt.  Let 
not  Doubting  Castle  imprison,  nor  the  Slough 
of  Despond  engulf,  nor  Giant  Despair  frighten. 
Go  on  and  go  upward,  O  Pilgrims!  The 
land  of  Beulah  beckons  you  and  from  this 
land,  you  shall  enter  through  the  gates  into 
the  City  Celestial,  where  wars  have  ceased, 
and  flags  are  furled,  for  all  men  love  each 
other. 


168 


X 

THE  INTERPRETATION  OF  LIFE 


L 


Chapter  X 

THE  INTERPRETATION  OF  LIFE 

[1913] 
"  What  is  your  life?  " —  James  iv  :  14. 

IFE  IS  the  source  of  life:  from  it  life 
springs.  Life  is  the  condition  of  life:  in 
it  life  moves  and  has  its  being.  Life 
is  the  method  of  life:  it  is  vital,  not  mechanical. 
Life  is  the  force  of  life:  it  is  impelled  by  itself, 
not  by  exterior  powers.  Life  is  the  end  of  life: 
more  life  and  fuller  is  the  final  cause.  But 
when  one  has  said  this,  one  has  still  failed  to 
answer  the  question  of  the  text — "What  is 
your  life.^  " 

To  attempt  to  tell  what  life  is,  is  not  our 
problem.  Rather  it  is  the  far  simpler  one 
with  which  we  are  content,  the  interpretation 
of  life,  hoping  that  through  this  interpretation 
one  may  secure  some  little  light  upon  the 
question  itself. 

First.  The  interpretation  is  to  be  made  in 
terms  of  truth.  Truth  is  the  knowledge  of 
things  as  they  are.  It  is  the  correspondence 
of  understanding  with  reality.     It  is  essentially 

[171] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

the    photograph    of    what    is.     It    represents 
existence,   forces,   conditions.     The  man  who 
knows  these  forces  and   conditions  is  the  man 
who  comes  the  most  clearly  to  interpret  life 
itself.     In  this  process  he  is  to  apply  the  tests 
of  truth.     Those  tests  which  Descartes  used 
are    still    valid.     First:  To    believe    nothing 
except    upon     clear     and     certain     evidence. 
Second:    To    analyze    every    question    thor- 
oughly.'  Third:  To    use    logic.     Fourth:  To 
observe  with  care.     In  other  words,  the  man 
who  is  truthful  is  to  confirm,  verify.     Evidence 
he  is  to  weigh;  facts  he  is  to  value;  processes 
to  understand;   complex  conditions  to  separate; 
separated  truths  to  put  together.     He  is  to 
know   things   broadly,   for   things   are   broad; 
to  know  things  highly,  for  things  are  lofty; 
to   know   things    deeply,   for   things   are   pro- 
found; to  know  things  intimately,  for  things 
are    of    details;   to    know    things    comprehen- 
sively, for  things  are  wide.     Experience  is  to 
make  truth  more  truthful.     Observation  is  to 
extend  knowledge.     The  perils  of  self-deception 
are  to  be  recognized.     The  personal  equation 
is  to  be  adjusted  in  making  up  all  verdicts. 
The  white  light  without  is  to  find  an  ally  in  the 
pure  soul  within.     The  heart  is  to  inspire  but 
never  clog  the  intellect.     The  heat  of  feeling 
[  172  ] 


THE  INTERPRETATION  OF  LIFE 

IS  not  to  be  sufficient  to  melt  the  lines  of  mental 
observation. 

For  giving  you  the  power  to  interpret  life 
as  truth,  the  college  holds  a  special  and  peculiar 
method.     This  method  belongs  to  the  physical 
sciences.     The    essence    of    these    sciences    is 
accuracy; — to  know  things  as  they  are  and 
to    express    such    knowledge.     I    always    look 
upon  certain  balances  in  one  of  the  laboratories 
with  peculiar  reverence.     Our  own  Professor 
Morley    once    said    to    me,    speaking    of    his 
balances,  which  have  historic  meaning,   that 
their  delicacy  could  be  best  expressed,  in  his 
thinking,  by  comparison  with  a  load  of  hay 
upon  the  hay  scales,  in  which  the  change  of 
a  single  straw  would  indicate  the  difference  in 
the  tons'  weight.     Now,  you  have  forgotten 
many  facts  of  chemistry  and  physics;  others 
you  will  proceed  to  forget.     But  the  methods 
which  you  have  employed,  the  emphasis  which 
you  have  laid  upon  the  worth  of  truth,  will 
remain     as     lasting     intellectual     forces     and 
permanent  treasures.     Herein,  by  the  way,  lies 
the  essence  of  a  college  education  as  a  training 
in  the  methods  to  be  employed  in  after-life, 
though  not  a  training  in  the  content  of  knowl- 
edge or  of  affairs  with  which  you  will  deal  in 
after-life. 

[173] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

When  one  seeks  for  examples  of  such  inter- 
pretation of  life  as  truth,  one  finds  many  names 
springing  to  the  lips,  but  the  name  of  Darwin 
comes  first — Darwin  laboring  year  after 
year  in  his  laboratory  and  gardens  at  Down. 
In  his  altogether  too  brief  autobiography,  he 
says:  "Therefore  my  success  as  a  man  of 
science,  whatever  this  may  have  meant  to  the 
world,  has  been  determined  as  far  as  I  can 
judge  by  complex  and  diversified  mental  con- 
ditions. Of  these  the  most  important  have 
been  the  love  of  science,  unbounded  patience 
in  long  reflecting  over  any  subject,  industry  in 
observing  and  collecting  facts,  and  a  fair  share 
of  invention  as  well  as  of  common  sense." 

May  you,  in  your  interpretation  of  life  as 
truth,  find  yourself  having  the  same  noble 
elements  and  qualities!  The  sciences  which 
you  have  studied  in  college  represent  one  of 
the  helps  which  the  college  has  given  or  can 
give  in  making  such  an  interpretation. 

Second.  The  interpretation  of  life  is  also 
to  be  made  through  development  and  growth. 
Life  is  development,  the  outfolding  of  forces 
inherent  in  itself;  and  also  it  is  growth,  the 
addition  of  forces  unto  itself  from  without.  I 
have  known  thousands  of  men  and  women  in 
collegej  and  also  I  have  followed  them  after 
[174] 


THE  INTERPRETATION  OF  LIFE 

college.  I  think  of  one,  whom  I  will  call  G, 
a  noble  boy,  quiet  in  manner,  keen  in  his 
young  intellect,  faithful  to  his  work,  who  has 
now  become  one  of  the  great  legal  counselors 
of  this  nation.  I  think  of  another,  M,  able, 
commanding,  popular,  permitting  his  lower 
appetites  at  times  to  rule  the  higher,  who 
finally  compelled  the  higher  to  rule  the  lower, 
who  came  to  fill  great  political  offices,  for 
which  men  strive  in  a  republic.  I  think  of 
still  another,  who,  when  in  college,  was  helpful 
to  every  other  man  and  to  every  cause,  and 
who  came  to  be  most  beloved  of  all  ministers 
known  to  me.  I  think  of  another  who,  in  her 
undergraduate  days,  sang  poems,  gracious  and 
happy  and  reverent,  who  has  continued  to  sing 
for  widest  audiences,  and  whose  life  is,  in 
itself,  a  poem.  I  think  of  another  whom  I 
will  call  A,  who,  in  college,  was  devoted  to 
every  activity,  who  won  high  scholarship 
prizes,  keen,  alert,  sympathetic,  who  is  now 
recognized  as  one  of  the  great  writers  of  his 
type  of  literature.  To  scores  of  others  I  might 
refer.  Life  has,  to  each  of  them,  meant 
development  and  growth.  The  life  that  was  in 
them  in  the  undergraduate  days  has  passed  on 
from  strength  unto  strength:  "They  have 
added  to  their  faith,  virtue;  and  to  their 
[175] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

virtue,  knowledge;  and  to  their  knowledge, 
temperance;  and  to  their  temperance,  patience; 
and  to  their  patience,  godliness;  and  to  their 
godliness,  brotherly  kindness;  and  to  their 
brotherly  kindness,  charity."  Their  life  has 
been  an  addition  and  multiplication. 

Every  subject,  fitted  for  a  place  in  the 
college,  provides  such  development.  Language 
and  literature  represent  such  a  growth.  I 
chanced  to  know  Hiram  Bingham,  the  apostle 
to  the  Gilbert  Islands,  and  the  grammarian 
and  lexicographer  of  their  language.  He  has 
told  me  of  the  simplicity  of  their  tongue,  and 
of  the  poverty  of  their  vocabulary,  except,  he 
said,  in  words  for  anger.  Now  contrast  such  a 
simple  speech  with  a  highly  complex  language 
like  the  Greek,  or  with  an  accurate  and  exact 
tongue  like  the  French,  or  with  the  amplitude 
of  words  of  the  English.  The  development  or 
growth  represents  a  new  world  of  speech.  Liter- 
ature shows  a  similar  enlargement.  Think  of 
the  contrast  between  the  mind  of  Chaucer, 
meeting  the  realities  of  life  and  of  nature,  and 
the  mind  of  Tennyson  and  Browning  and 
Matthew  Arnold,  seeking  to  interpret  the  outer 
or  the  inner  vision  of  the  last  century.  Lan- 
guage and  literature  are  thus  illustrations  of 
the  development  and  growth  which  charac- 
[176] 


THE  INTERPRETATION  OF  LIFE 

terizes  and  interprets  life.  Your  life  is  not 
indifference,  stagnation,  listlessness.  It  is 
vital,  progressive,  the  sum  of  aggressive 
vitalities. 

Matthew  Arnold  wrote  to  his  mother  at  the 
age  of  forty-one,  saying:  "  I  have  ripened  and 
am  ripening,  so  slowly  that  I  shall  be  glad  of 
as  much  time  as  possible.  Yet  I  can  feel,  I 
rejoice  to  say,  an  inward  spring  which  seems 
more  and  more  to  gain  strength  and  to  promise 
to  resist  outward  shocks  if  they  must  come, 
however  rough."  Such  ripening  may  there 
be  in  you,  firm,  rich,  complete. 

Third.  The  interpretation  of  life  also  means 
duty.  Duty  represents  usually  something  to 
be  done.  It  stands  for  action.  It  is  service 
and  service  for  others.  It  means  the  applica- 
tion of  Christ's  command,  "  Love  your  neigh- 
bor as  yourself."  For  such  an  interpretation 
of  life  I  know  you  are  eager,  almost  restless,  yet 
a  little  fearful,  turning  your  eyes  and  heart 
back  with  longing  to  the  last  four  years.  You 
are  inclined  to  contrast  present  college  years 
with  what  you  think  life  is  to  be.  The  future 
in  the  world  you  believe  is  the  real  thing,  the 
past  in  the  college  you  believe  has  not  been 
the  real  thing.  Yet  more  alike  you  will  find 
the  two  to  be  than  you  now  imagine.  The 
[177] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

value  of  forces,  the  value  of  ideals  and  idealism, 
the  value  of  camaraderie,  the  worth  of  clear  and 
large  and  deep  thinking,  the  motives,  large  or 
petty,  the  rivalries;  the  disappointments,  the 
triumphs  —  all  these  that  make  up  the  college 
years,  you  will  find  to  constitute  the  years 
following.  The  able  men  and  women  will 
continue  to  be  able  and  to  be  gaining  in 
strength.  The  same  kings  and  queens  and 
castles  with  which  you  have  played  upon  the 
academic  chessboard,  you  will  use  upon  the 
public  chessboard  afterward.  That  board  will 
be  larger  and  perhaps  the  pieces  a  bit  less  white 
or  a  bit  more  crimson,  but  the  laws  of  the 
playing  are  the  same,  and  the  results  of  a  kind 
quite  alike. 

In  interpreting  life  as  duty,  and  duty  as 
service  to  others,  you  are  choosing  a  vocation, 
or  better  a  vocation  is  choosing  or  calling  you. 
Of  this  election  I  want  to  say  two  things : 

First,  your  calling  is  to  be  one  which  will 
give  highest  benefit  —  benefit  both  in  method 
and  result.  Any  calling  which  you  will  con- 
sider is  good.  You  have  only  to  think  what 
calling  is  the  better  or  the  best  for  you.  In 
this  weighing  of  evidence  you  are  to  think 
wherein  lies  the  greatest  need,  and  also  to 
think  what  is  your  own  power  for  filling  the 

[178] 


THE  INTERPRETATION  OF  LIFE 

greatest  need.  Yet  when  these  two  points  are 
weighed,  not  surprised  shall  I  be  that  you  are 
led  into  a  calling  unlike  that  which  you  had 
laid  down  for  yourself.  God  has  in  mind 
some  better  thing  for  you,  without  which  you 
would  not  have  been  made  perfect.  Yet,  be 
it  said,  your  preparation  for  your  chosen  calling 
may  prove  to  be  the  very  best  preparation  for 
the  calling  which  God  has  in  store  for  you. 
Each  duty  done  knowingly  becomes  light  and 
leading  for  other  duties  not  known.  Be  true 
and  be  trusting! 

This  leads  me  to  my  second  remark:  with 
your  vocation,  useful  as  it  is,  unite  an  avoca- 
tion which  also  shall  be  useful.  Along  the 
main  road  of  your  life  let  there  lie  a  side-path. 
The  unofficial  organization  of  the  community 
is  a  mark  of  our  time:  the  boards,  the  societies, 
the  associations,  of  and  for  men  and  women, 
are  numbered  by  the  thousands.  They  go 
from  Homes  for  Foundlings  to  Homes  for 
Aged  Couples,  and  from  Unions  for  Railroad 
Firemen  to  Theosophical  clubs.  In  such 
service  have  a  share.  Choose  that  form  which 
makes  the  strongest  appeal  to  you.  Do  not 
dissipate  energy.  Only  when  the  northern  lakes 
are  compressed  into  the  Niagara  River  do 
they  get  power. 

[179] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

If  the  physical  sciences  help  to  interpret  life 
as  truth,  and  language  and  literature  as 
development,  so  also  do  the  sociological 
sciences  help  to  interpret  life  as  service.  One 
among  the  mighty  lessons  of  such  teaching  is 
that  "  No  man  liveth  unto  himself  and  no 
man  dieth  unto  himself."  A  further  lesson  is 
that  if  a  man  attempt  to  live  unto  and  by 
himself,  he  dies  as  surely  as  does  the  man  who 
tries  to  support  himself  by  his  own  blood. 
The  popularity  of  such  studies  helps  to  prove, 
as  it  does  illustrate,  that  man,  in  seeking  to 
help  himself  today,  is  making  life  worth  living. 

Life  is  indeed  duty.  It  is  to  seek  to  live  as 
Mary  Lyon  lived.  Upon  her  tombstone  at 
Mount  Holyoke  are  cut  these  words  —  a 
memorable  sentence  given  in  her  last  teaching 
to  her  school:  "There  is  nothing  in  the  uni- 
verse that  I  fear,  but  that  I  shall  not  know  all 
my  duty  or  shall  fail  to  do  it."  Quite  as  noble 
and  more  modest  it  seems  to  me  is  the  in- 
scription found  upon  the  tombstone  of  Sir 
Henry  Lawrence  at  Lucknow.  Struck  by  a 
shell  in  that  memorable  siege,  and  knowing 
that  he  was  soon  to  die.  Sir  Henry  asked  that 
this  inscription  might  be  placed  above  his 
grave:  "Here  lies  Sir  Henry  Lawrence,  the 
man  who  tried  to  do  his  duty." 

[180] 


THE  INTERPRETATION  OF  LIFE 

Fourth.  In  one's  interpretation  of  life,  life 
also  means  religion.  And  what  is  religion? 
I  ask  at  once.  Is  religion  the  intellectual  ac- 
ceptance of  certain  intellectual  propositions 
about  God?  Is  religion  a  participation  in 
certain  ecclesiastical  rites  of  high  historic  au- 
thority? Is  religion  service  for  man  —  al- 
truism? In  reference  to  this  last  question  — 
is  religion  altruism  —  I  wish  to  say  promptly 
and  clearly  that,  however  valuable  and  precious 
service  for  man  may  be,  it  ought  not  to  be 
called  religion.  Call  it  philanthropy,  call  it 
social  service,  call  it  the  expression  of  religion, 
but  it  is  not  to  be  called  religion.  Religion 
rather  represents  the  relation  which  man  holds 
to  the  Highest  Being.  That  Being  bears 
different  names  and  is  thought  of  under  differ- 
ent forms.  But,  at  all  events,  religion  is  con- 
cerned with  our  origin,  with  our  passing  through 
time  and  space,  and  with  our  destiny.  It  is 
the  deep  tide  of  which  single  events  and  lives 
are  the  individual  waves.  It  is  the  atmosphere 
of  which  individual  events  are  the  zephyrs  and 
cyclones.  It  is  the  sky,  the  overarching 
firmament,  of  which  we  are  as  clouds  which 
move  to  and  fro,  fast  and  slow,  from  horizon 
to  zenith.  Religion  gives  divine  movement, 
divine  influence.     Religion  is  knowing,  so  far 

[181] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

as  may  be,  the  infinite  Force  —  Person.  It  is 
adjusting  oneself  to  Him  in  peace  and  co- 
operation. Religion  is  trusting  oneself  to  Him 
in  glad  hopefulness,  to  enable  us  to  achieve 
results.  This  power,  universal,  eternal,  make, 
so  far  as  you  can,  a  Person;  clothe  it  with  the 
attributes  of  the  great  Friend;  think  of  it  as 
the  eternal,  beneficent,  living,  gracious  Father 
and  Mother.  Feel  it  not  as  a  dying  and  a  dead 
but  as  a  living  and  a  loving  Lord.  Look  upon 
this  world  not  as  a  charnel  house  of  ashen 
faiths,  but  as  a  garden  —  a  garden,  not  of 
Eden,  with  its  serpent  and  its  prohibitions,  but 
as  a  garden  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  watered  by 
divine  refreshings  and  bearing  fruits  for  the 
healing  of  the  nations.  Give  yourself  unto  it, 
in  sentiment  and  mind,  as  a  grateful  worshiper 
at  its  altars.  Of  such  a  religion  the  philosophy 
taught  in  the  college  has  sought  to  make  you 
as  disciples  and  apostles.  For  philosophy 
tries  to  see  the  heart  of  things  and  to  inspire 
one  to  live  according  to  the  holiest  and  the 
highest.  Therefore,  interpret  life  as  religion. 
What  is  your  life?  It  is  to  be  interpreted  as 
truth,  as  growth,  as  service,  as  religion.  Such 
an  interpretation  make  an  essential,  necessary 
part  of  your  character —  not  a  superficial  and 
remote  part —  an  interpretation  warm,  earnest, 
[182] 


THE  INTERPRETATION  OF  LIFE 

overflowing,  vital.  Add  to  that  interpretation, 
imagination;  add  to  that  imagination,  feeling, 
great,  warm,  lasting;  add  to  the  feeling  the 
choice  of  your  whole  being. 

Thus  life  was  interpreted  by  the  Christ.  He 
came,  declaring  "  I  am  Life,"  and  affirming 
"  I  am  come  that  you  might  have  life  and  have 
it  more  abundantly."  He  also  aflSrmed  "  I 
am  the  Truth."  It  is  said,  moreover,  that  he 
increased  in  stature  and  in  favor  with  God 
and  man.  Life  was  to  him  development  and 
growth.  It  was  also  to  him  duty,  service, 
for  the  second  of  his  three  great  command- 
ments was  to  love  your  neighbor  as  yourself. 
The  third  of  the  three  was  to  love  your  friends 
as  he  has  loved  you,  even  unto  death.  He 
was  also  the  Spirit  of  Religion.  "  He  that 
hath  seen  Me,  hath  seen  the  Father  also." 
Accept  the  Christ  as  your  Master,  and  life  will 
become  unto  you  truth  and  growth  and  duty 
and  religion. 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Classes: 

The  long  wished  for  days  have  come  —  the 
last  week  of  your  college  course  is  here.  You 
accept  of  it,  now  that  it  is  here,  with  mingled 
sadness  and  gladness.  As  you  look  back  upon 
these  four  years,  you  do  find,  I  trust,  that 
[183] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

they  have  been  to  you  an  enlarging  of  knowl- 
edge and  truth,  an  increasing  growth  in  your- 
self, a  stronger  loyalty  to  duty,  and  a  deeper 
sense  of  religion.  If,  to  this  quartette  of 
verities,  the  four  years  have  brought  you  into 
loving  allegiance,  the  college  has  no  fear  for 
your  future.  If  it  has  so  helped  you  that  you 
enter  into  that  future,  bearing  a  holier  appre- 
ciation of  the  truth,  a  stronger  passion  for  a 
full  life,  a  more  eager  sense  for  service,  a 
deeper  reverence  for  religion,  then  that  indeed 
which  is  best  in  the  college  you  have  gained. 
That,  in  this  spirit,  you  do  leave  the  college, 
and  that  also  you,  in  this  spirit,  do  face  the 
future,  I  do  believe.  Let  the  noblest  being 
and  the  best  doing  of  the  future  prove  how  well 
you  have  learned  the  college  lessons  of  truth, 
growth,  duty,  and  religion.  May  God  bless 
you  every  one!     Farewell! 


[184] 


XI 

COLLEGE  LIFE  A  PROPHECY  OF 
LIFE  ITSELF 


Chapter  XI 

COLLEGE  LIFE  A  PROPHECY  OF  LIFE 
ITSELF 

[1914] 

"Behold:  a  Sower  went  forth  to  sow." — Matt. xiii:  3, 

THIS  day  looks  at  once  backward  and 
forward;  it  bears  memory  and  hope. 
Like  the  treasure  of  the  sower,  it  is 
both  fruit  and  seed.  Therefore  it  is  for  me  to 
point  out  certain  principles,  or  teachings,  or 
methods,  of  the  four  years  of  the  college, 
which  are  also  a  promise  or  intimation  of  the 
several  times  four  years  which  lie  before  you. 

One  teaching  of  the  college,  which  you  will 
find  true  of  the  after  years,  is,  that  you  are  to 
live  your  life.  The  sower  sows;  sowing  was 
his  business.  He  succeeded,  or  he  failed,  ac- 
cording as  that  life  of  sowing  he  lived.  Not 
in  any  professional  or  technical  sense  is  the 
remark  to  be  interpreted;  but  in  the  largest 
sense,  you  are  to  live  your  life.  Broadly, 
deeply,  highly,  fully,  you  are  to  live  the  highest, 
deepest,  broadest,  fullest  life.     Today  you  are 

[187] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

thinking  of  doing;  what  am  I  going  to  do  next 
year?  is  the  most  common  question.  Beyond, 
above,  below  the  doing,  is  the  life  that  you  are 
to  live.  You  are  painting  your  future;  the 
pictures  are  glorious.  The  service  you  will 
render,  the  reform  you  will  make,  the  result 
you  will  win,  the  force  you  will  apply,  the  cause 
you  will  begin — how  noble  each  aspiration! 
Continue  to  dip  the  brush  of  hope  into  the  red 
colors  of  your  powers,  but,  in  preparation  for 
giving  your  service,  for  creating  your  reforms, 
for  applying  your  force,  for  winning  your 
result,  live  your  life,  your  life  of  each  day,  of 
each  year,  fully,  faithfully,  greatly. 

"  I  would  be  true  for  there  are  those  who  trust  me, 
I  would  be  pure  for  there  are  those  who  care, 
I  would  be  strong  for  there  is  much  to  suffer, 
I  would  be  brave  for  there  is  much  to  dare, 
I  would  be  friend  to  all  the  poor  and  friendless, 
I  would  be  giver  and  forget  the  gift, 
I  would  be  humble  for  I  know  my  weakness, 
I  would  look  up  and  love  and  laugh  and  lift." 

Such  a  life  is  the  vestibule  of  the  temple  of 
noblest  achieving.  The  man  who  lives  his 
life  most  effectively  in  his  own  age  and  place, 
is  the  one  who  is  sure  to  make  the  richest 
offering  to  the  life  of  all  future  time,  and  of  all 
other  places.     It  was  John  Milton,  the  poli- 

[188] 


COLLEGE  LIFE  A  PROPHECY 

tician,  the  statesman,  the  pamphleteer,  the 
hot-headed  Puritan  of  the  great  rebellion,  who 
became  the  poet,  the  poet  of  a  Paradise  Lost, 
and  of  a  Paradise  Regained. 

John  Hay  was  chosfen  to  his  greatest  office 
while  serving  as  ambassador  at  the  English 
Court.  I  ventured  to  write  him,  this  man  of 
Cleveland,  and  a  Trustee  and  benefactor  of 
this  University,  a  letter  of  congratulation.  He 
replied  to  me,  saying  in  essence:  "  I  am  a 
soldier;  I  can  only  obey  my  superior;  I  am 
coming  back  under  orders,  and  I  shall  stand  in 
my  place  until  I  fall."  A  true  prophet  he  was, 
as  well  as  a  brave  soldier.  He  did  stand  truly 
and  bravely  in  his  place,  till  he  did  fall.  It  was 
the  man  doing  his  work  in  this  office  or  that, 
in  England  or  America,  which  fitted  him  for 
the  unrivaled  work  which  he  was  to  do  as  the 
Secretary  of  State. 

At  each  stage  live  your  life  just  as  great, 
just  as  complete  as  you  can;  at  that  stage  be 
content  thus  to  live,  until  the  next  stage  of 
living  is  made  known. 

A  second  principle,  which  the  college  bears, 
and  which  life  itself  will  offer,  and  illustrate, 
is  that  most  fundamental  principle  of  logic  and 
of  science,  that  each  result  represents  and  in- 
cludes a  cause.     Every  harvest  looks  back  to  a 

[189] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

sowing,  every  fruit  to  a  seed.  Each  golden- 
wheated  October  pre-supposes  a  grain-sowing 
May:  logic,  commonplace  and  inevitable,  in 
conditions  material.  But  humanity  is  not  so 
inclined  to  recognize  the  fact,  or  to  appreciate 
the  meaning  of  the  fact  in  conditions  intel- 
lectual, moral,  human. 

The  American  people  are  eager  for  education. 
The  people  are  to  be  educated.  The  masses 
are  to  be  taught.  These  are  the  chief  articles 
of  our  public  educational  creed,  a  creed  inspir- 
ing, as  well  as  aspiring.  Let  us  accept  the 
creed  and  practise  its  duties. 

But  those  who  promulgate  this  creed,  often 
do  not  understand  it.  They  should  learn,  and 
believe,  and  they  should  express  the  belief,  that 
education  is  not  a  sudden  and  unrelated  result; 
it  is  not  as  was  said  of  Schelling's  philosophy, 
"  a  shot  fired  out  of  pure  space."  Education 
represents  toil  and  labor,  sacrifice  of  the  lower  to 
the  higher,  of  the  small  to  the  great,  of  the 
transientfto  the  lasting.  One  of  the  leaders 
of£the^Chautauqua  movement  tells  me  that 
apparently  the  American  people  are  eager  for 
what  is  called  "  culture."  They  want  to 
know  the  best  about  the  best.  They  desire  to 
possess  the  virtues  and  the  verities  of  learning 
and  of  scholarship.     But  he  also  says  they  seem 

[190] 


COLLEGE  LIFE  A  PROPHECY 

to  be  unwilling  to  pay  the  price.     They  want 
to  be  furnished  with  the  ready-made  articles  of 
intellectual    habits.     They    desire    to   become 
cultured   while   they   wait,    or   even   without 
waiting.     They  want  to  learn  while  they  loaf. 
They  desire  education  in  tablets.     They  try  to 
take  education,  and  not  to  be  taken  by  it. 
The  fact  is  that  we  are  a  good  deal  like  our 
landscapes  —  new.     We  try  to  do  things  in- 
tellectual as  we  do  things  executive,  quickly, 
immediately.     Now  all  this  is  in  some  respects 
good  and  worthy.     Such  a  process  stands  for 
energy,  force,  power;  but  it  does  not  stand  for 
thoughtfulness,   for  enrichment,   for  discrimi- 
nation, for  delicacy  of  character,  or  for  fineness 
and  beauty  of  service.     It  does  not  stand  for 
an  appreciation  of  the  great  facts  of  life,  of 
growth,  of  seedtime  and  of  harvest.     Know 
you,  that  real  life  comes  from  life,  not  from 
processes;   from  riches  of  character,  not  from 
poverty   of   material.     Know   you    that   fruit 
comes  from  seed,  and  seed  from  fruit.     They 
both  represent  life,  and  life  stands  for  growth, 
development.     Biology,    as    well    as    physics, 
illustrates  the  great  law  of  cause  and  effect. 

A  further  principle,  both  academic  and 
human,  is  the  principle  of  adjustment.  The 
sower  went  forth  as  a  sower.     He  scattered 

[191] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

seeds,  not  iron  filings.  He  went  forth  in  the 
proper  season.  He  fitted  himself  into  his  con- 
ditions. He  adjusted  means  and  methods  and 
forces  to  ends.  This  lesson  the  college  has 
tried  to  teach,  and  the  same  lesson  life  also  will 
confirm.  It  is  important  for  you  to  adjust 
yourself  to  circumstance.  The  organism  is 
to  adjust  itself  to  environment.  If  it  fail  to 
adjust,  it  perishes.  The  most  important  part 
of  all  your  circumstance  is  the  human  part. 
Humanity  has  entered  into  an  age  of  asso- 
ciated action,  of  co-operative  effort.  The  in- 
dividual withers.  In  this  association,  in  this 
co-operation,  you  are  to  fit  yourself  into  others. 
You  are  to  recognize  their  point  of  view,  to 
appreciate  their  narrowness,  to  feel  their  prej- 
udices, to  interpret  their  selfishnesses.  Al- 
truistic interpretation  is  to  be  your  mood,  an 
intellectual  substitution  your  habit. 

This  condition  is  one  great  cause  of  the  prog- 
ress of  German  manufacturing,  as  a  world- 
wide force.  The  German  manufacturer  puts 
up  his  goods  in  the  forms  which  the  South  Sea 
Islander  wishes.  The  Britisher  is  inclined  to 
put  up  his  steel  and  cotton  goods  in  such  forms 
as  please  himself,  such  forms  as  he  has  used  for 
fifty  years.  The  ripeness  of  the  opportunity 
into  which  you  would  enter  is  important.     Your 

[192] 


COLLEGE  LIFE  A  PROPHECY 

technical,  professional  equipment  is  impor- 
tant. The  forces  at  your  command  are,  also, 
most  important,  but  more  important  than 
any,  perhaps  more  important  than  all  other 
factors  put  together,  is  your  power  to  adjust 
yourself  to  the  human  condition,  is  your 
capacity  to  work  with  men.  Of  course  one  is 
not  blind  to  the  personal  perils  of  such  human 
adjusting.  It  is  the  peril  of  losing  your  full, 
complete,  whole  selfhood.  It  is  the  peril,  that 
in  seeking  to  be  all  things  to  all  men,  you  will 
cease  to  be  your  firmest  and  finest  self.  It  is 
the  peril  of  disintegration  and  dissipation, 
intellectual  at  least,  and  possibly  moral.  But 
avoidance  of  this  peril  may  be  had  by  the 
might  and  confirming  power  of  a  noble  purpose. 
The  apostle  who  writes  of  being  all  things  to 
all  men,  affirms  that  his  purpose  is  to  save 
some  of  them.  If  one  adjusts  himself  to  hu- 
man factors,  to  gain  advantage  for  himself 
alone,  he  will  dissipate  his  personality.  If  he, 
however,  give  himself  to  all  human  conditions 
in  order  to  improve  and  to  better  them,  he  will 
discover  that  in  losing  his  life  he  has  gained  it; 
in  losing  himself,  he  has  found  himself  larger 
and  richer  than  the  self  lost. 

A  fourth  principle  which  the  fact  and  the 
hour   emphasize   is   the   willingness   to   await 

[  193  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

results.  You  can  grind  your  wheat  into  flour 
and  bake  your  flour  into  bread  in  a  few  hours. 
To  grow  your  wheat  requires  many  weeks. 
You  have  waited  years  for  this  baccalaureate 
week.  You  are  still  to  be  willing  to  wait  many 
a  year  more  for  the  crowning  of  your  whole 
life.  The  two  supreme  questions  now  before 
the  world  are,  in  my  judgment,  first,  the 
question  of  the  union  of  races.  Humanity  is 
now  dividing  itself,  more  or  less  arbitrarily,  into 
several  races.  Formerly  these  races  lived 
apart.  The  swift,  cheap  and  frequent  trans- 
portation is  bringing  them  together.  Com- 
mercial relations  promote  relations  social  and 
inter-racial.  The  exporting  and  the  importing 
of  goods  mean  the  coming  and  the  going,  and 
the  staying  of  men.  Such  conditions  promote 
family  unions.  Is  it  best  for  the  progress  of 
the  race,  that  the  people  of  the  East  and  the 
people  of  the  West  shall  intermarry.^  Recent 
history  shows  two  examples  of  apparently  good 
results.  In  the  Hawaiian  Islands  the  union  of 
the  native  Hawaiian  women  and  of  the  Chinese, 
and  on  the  east  central  coast  of  Africa,  the 
union  of  certain  women  of  native  tribes  and  of 
certain  Arabians,  seem  to  give  evidence  of  the 
righteous  effects  of  such  inter-racial  marriage. 
But  go  to  India  —  the  Eurasian  —  the  child  of 

[194] 


COLLEGE  LIFE  A  PROPHECY 

an  English  father  and  a  Hindoo  mother,  is 
despised  by  both  native  and  foreigner.  One 
may  say  that  many  factors  —  sociological, 
moral,  personal  —  enter  into  the  condition. 

But,  be  it  said  in  most  general  terms,  that 
before  this  tremendous  problem  of  the  separa- 
tion or  the  union  of  races,  the  wise  man  is 
willing  to  wait.  Biology  alone  can  give  proper 
conclusions,  and  biology  does  not  hasten, 
though  neither  does  it  rest. 

A  second  great  problem  of  the  world,  that 
likewise  demands  patience,  is  the  problem  of 
the  best  and  ultimate  organization  of  society. 
Is  that  organization  to  be  individualistic,  or 
socialistic?  Certain  present  evidences  seem 
to  indicate  that  it  is  to  be  socialistic.  Men 
have  sought  long  and  hard  for  civil  liberty,  and 
the  advancing  nations  have  found  civil  liberty. 
Men  are  now  seeking  for  equality.  Equality 
of  opportunity,  it  is  declared,  is  what  they 
want.  Let  this  seeking,  which  is  becoming 
almost  a  battle,  go  on,  and  may  the  signs  of 
victory  abound.  But  it  would  seem  that  the 
battle  is  not  simply  for  equal  opportunity,  but 
also  for  equal  power;  equal  power  of  brain; 
equal  power  of  purse;  equal  power  of  person. 
This  battle,  furthermore,  often  seems  to  consist 
in  making  equality  by  cutting  off,  by  pulling 

[195] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

down,  by  lessening,  as  well  as  by  adding, 
by  multiplying,  by  lifting  up,  by  broadening. 
Now,  of  this  form  of  social  order,  there 
can  be  only  one  judgment.  It  is  the  judgment 
of  condemnation;  rejection  by  the  intellect, 
despising  by  the  heart,  discarding  by  will, 
reprobation  by  the  conscience. 

But  a  socialism  which  produces  equality  by 
enriching  the  poor,  not  by  making  the  rich 
poor,  which  produces  equality  by  broadening 
the  narrow,  not  by  narrowing  the  broad; 
which  produces  equality  by  deepening  the 
thin,  not  by  making  thin  the  deep;  which  pro- 
duces equality  by  lifting  up  the  low,  not  by 
lowering  the  high  —  that  is  a  type  of  equality, 
of  socialism,  of  social  organization,  of  which 
all  good  men  can  now  approve  and  for  which  all 
good  men  can  quietly  wait. 

Can  quietly  wait  for  its  adjustment  to  the 
individualistic  bases  of  society?  Quietly  wait 
—  no,  by  no  means.  I  would  have  you  seek 
to  understand  the  elements  of  the  condition 
and  to  promote  the  adjustment  of  these  ele- 
ments unto  most  efficient  and  long-to-be- 
waited-for  conclusions. 

But,  if,  while  you  wait,  you  must  work,  I 
will  have  you  willing  to  wait  while  you  do 
work. 

[196] 


COLLEGE  LIFE  A  PROPHECY 

A  fifth  principle  is  to  be  noted  of  which  the 
college  is  prophetic  of  life.  It  is  this:  achieve- 
ment in  the  realm  of  character,  and  achieve- 
ment in  the  realm  of  service  is  to  be  yours. 
The  parable  whence  is  taken  the  text,  con- 
cludes with  saying:  "  Brought  forth  fruit 
some  one  hundred  fold,  some  sixty  fold,  some 
thirty  fold."  How  many  fold  of  harvest  your 
life  will  mean,  no  one,  not  even  yourself,  dares 
intimate.  But  I  do  venture  to  promise  you 
that  there  shall  be  a  harvest.  You  are  elect 
men  and  women.  For  many  a  year  it  has  been 
my  joy  to  study  students  and  to  study  the 
same  men  and  women  when  they  have  ceased 
to  be  students.  The  qualities  which  made 
them  worthy  in  the  college  years  and  within 
academic  walls,  have  made  them  more  worthy 
in  the  after  college  years  and  beyond  academic 
walls.  On  this  basis  I  assure  you  that  the 
cardinal  intellectual  virtues  of  thoughtfulness, 
observation,  analysis,  comprehensiveness,  and 
the  cardinal  moral  virtues  of  love,  justice, 
courage,  self-restraint,  and  the  cardinal  graces 
of  courtesy,  generosity,  graciousness,  appre- 
ciation, shall  bear  to  you  results  rich  and  far 
richer  than  your  most  daring  day-dreams  ever 
intimated.  The  world  is  yours,  if  you  will  be 
your  best  self.    The  sower  sowed  on  poor  soil; 

[197] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

he  seemed  to  be  intent  on  just  sowing.  I 
would  not  have  you  careless  of  conditions,  or 
thoughtless  of  result,  but  there  is  a  sense  in 
which  you  should  be  unthinking  of  conse- 
quences. Be  most  eager  for  duty;  to  under- 
stand it  and  to  do  it.  The  results  God  will 
take  care  of.  Be  most  eager  for  truth,  to 
know  it.  God  will  take  care  of  where  it  leads 
you.  Be  simply  your  broadest,  deepest,  high- 
est self. 

Since  last  we  assembled  in  this  Baccalaureate 
service,  no  less  than  six  members  of  the  Board 
of  Trust  of  this  University  have  died.  Haydn, 
Pope,  Severance,  McBride,  Holden,  Watterson, 
names  ever  to  be  held  in  dear  and  beau- 
tiful remembrance  in  the  annals  of  this  Uni- 
versity. They  each,  in  diverse  ways,  and  under 
unlike  conditions,  illustrate  what  I  have  been 
trying  to  say.  They  each  lived  his  life.  They 
each  recognized  the  truth  of  that  old  remark 
of  Bishop  Butler,  that  things  will  be  as  they 
will  be.  They  each  recognized  the  principle  of 
adjustment  of  means  and  methods  of  forces  to 
ultimate  ends.  They  each  were  patient  in 
waiting  for  results.  They  each  felt  assured 
that  achievement  and  service  belong  to  the 
good  and  the  true.  Rich  contributions  they 
and   their   children   make   in   money   to   this 

[198] 


COLLEGE  LIFE  A  PROPHECY 

University,  offerings  to  be  measured  by  the  mil- 
lions, but  richer  and  finer  than  all  the  material 
treasure,  is  their  embodiment  of  the  great 
principles   of  life  and  of  being. 

Of  like  character  and  service  was  one  whose 
name  is  ever  to  be  mentioned  in  this  University 
with  grateful  devotion  and  tender,  strong 
affection,  Mrs.  Flora  Stone  Mather.  As  you 
entered  yonder  tower  gateway,  you  may 
have  seen,  veiled,  what  you  inferred  was  a 
piece  of  marble.  As  you  pass  out  you  shall 
see,  carved  by  an  illustrious  Italian  sculptor,  a 
memorial  statue.  The  gift  of  many  loving 
friends,  it  incarnates  our  thought  of  her  as  a 
messenger  of  love  and  learning,  of  wisdom  and 
of  charity.  Fitting  is  this  place  for  this 
beautiful  memorial,  a  place  to  the  making  of 
which  Mrs.  Mather's  last  work  was  devoted 
and  which,  with  her  sister,  Mrs.  John  Hay, 
also  of  the  immortals,  she  erected  to  the 
memory  of  their  great  father.  From  memorial 
window  of  the  chancel  and  from  memorial  mar- 
ble of  the  nave,  the  youth,  for  many  genera- 
tions, who  daily  enter  this  temple,  shall  learn 
lessons  of  high  ideals,  of  generous  endeavor, 
of  gracious  service  and  of  holy  zeal. 

Yet  it  is  in  Jesus  Christ  himself,  that  one 
finds  the  supreme  illustration  of  what  I  have 

[199] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

tried  to  say.  He  lived  his  life.  He  went 
about  teaching,  preaching,  doing  good.  His 
pure  boyhood  prepared  him  for  such  a  life. 
He  recognized  that  in  the  realm  intellectual  end 
spiritual,  no  less  than  in  the  realm  material, 
causes  inevitably  lead  to  inevitable  results. 
He  sought  through  life  and  through  death  to 
adjust  himself  in  the  richest  eflFectiveness  to  the 
world  in  which  he  was  put.  He  was  willing  to 
await  results.  He  recognized  that  his  life  of 
sacrifice,  the  supreme  achievement,  was  to  be 
of  the  utmost  worth.  He  knew  that  ulti- 
mately he  would  draw  all  men  unto  himself. 
He  was  and  is  the  great  sower  who  went  forth 
to  sow. 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Classes: 

The  hour  of  my  last  word  to  you  has  come. 
We  look  backward  together;  forward  also,  let 
us  look  together.  Live  your  life,  your  common 
life.  It  is  worthy.  That  life  shall  prepare 
you  for  the  uncommon  life  yet  more  worthy. 
Expect  no  result  in  character  or  achievement, 
without  labor.  Adjust  yourself  to  your  con- 
ditions. Yet  in  the  adjustment,  find  a  larger, 
not  a  lesser,  self.  Be  willing  to  wait.  Live  for 
eternity.  Demand  the  highest  of  yourself,  and 
be  assured  that  the  highest  shall  follow  the 

[200] 


COLLEGE  LIFE  A  PROPHECY 

demand.  Such,  my  friends,  becoming  our  sons 
and  our  daughters,  are  the  lessons  of  our 
great  parable. 

May  the  practice  of  these  lessons  be  your 
daily  joy  and  inspiration,  and  may  the  reward 
of  this  practice  be  rich  to  you,  in  all  the  un- 
known years.  God  be  with  you  now  and 
forever.     Amen. 


I 


[201] 


XII 

THE  GREATNESS  AND  SIMPLICITY 
OF  RELIGION 


Chapter  XII 

THE  GREATNESS  AND  SIMPLICITY  OF 
RELIGION 

[1915] 

"  What  doth  the  Lord  require  of  thee,  but  to  do  justly, 
and  to  love  mercy,  and  to  walk  humbly  with  thy  God?  '* — 
Micah  vi :  8. 

WE  are  met  in  one  of  the  college  chap- 
els for  the  last  of  several  hundred 
times  in  a  service  of  religion.  Many 
are  the  themes  appropriate  to  the  place  and  the 
hour;  but  out  of  them  all  I  select  one  which 
in  its  comprehensiveness  and  definiteness 
seems  not  unfitting.  It  is  drawn  in  particular 
from  the  last  of  the  three  parts  of  our  text,  and 
it  is  the  nost  important:  "  To  walk  humbly 
with  thy  God."  For  if  one  does  walk  humbly 
with  his  God,  I  am  sure  he  will  do  justly,  for 
God  is  just.  And  if  he  does  walk  humbly 
with  his  God,  he  will  love  mercy.  For  merci- 
fulness is  a  property  of  humility.  The  topic, 
therefore,  drawn  from  the  lesson  of  walking 
humbly  with  one's  God  is  the  supreme  one: 

[205] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

The  Greatness  and  Simplicity  of  Religion  in 
the  Life  of  the  Individual  and  of  the  Nation. 

And  what  is  religion?  The  question  be- 
comes at  bottom  what  and  who  is  God?  For 
religion  is  primarily  a  relation  to  God. 

In  the  first  verse  of  the  massive  first  chapter 
of  Genesis  I  like  to  stop  before  the  first  verb 
and  read  "  In  the  beginning  God."  God  a 
Person';  a  Person,  for  He  has  reason,  conscience, 
and  will.  If  His  reason  be  infinitely  wise,  and 
if  His  conscience  be  perfect,  and  if  His  will  be 
omnipotent,  such  infinities  do  not  forbid  His 
personality.  God,  the  atmosphere  in  which  we 
live  and  move,  and  have  our  being.  God,  the 
energy  of  which  all  forces  are  only  forms  and 
adaptations  and  applications — an  energy 
which  had  no  beginning  and  apparently,  like- 
wise, has  no  end.  God,  the  knowledge  which 
is  omniscience,  to  whom  the  microscopic  is  not 
unworthy  and  whose  vision  the  telescopic 
cannot  transcend.  God,  who  was  in  the 
beginning  and  whose  ending  is  inconceivable  — 
eternal.  God,  who  fills  infinite  space,  as  He 
fills  and  transmutes  all  time  into  eternity  with 
His  presence.  God,  who,  being  before  the 
beginning,  did  in  the  beginning  create;  who 
came  into  time  and  who,  being  in  space,  made 
space  with  His  creation  visible.     God,  who  as 

[206] 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  RELIGION 

a  Creator  made  what  seemed  to  Him  good  —  a 
power  working  for  righteousness.  God,  the 
beneficent,  who  was,  and  is,  and  shall  be,  love. 

Yet  any  worthy  definition  is  impossible,  for  a 
definition  of  God  seeks  to  interpret  the  incom- 
prehensible and  to  make  plain  the  infinite. 
Any  God  who  could  be  defined  by,  or  to,  the 
human  reason  would  not  be  God.  Any  human 
reason  which  could  define  God  would  cease  to 
be  a  reason  human. 

As  God  is  necessary  to  the  world,  so  is  man's 
relation  to  Him,  —  religion,  —  essential.  That 
relation  cannot  be  abdicated,  though  it  may 
be  abridged.  From  it  is  no  escape,  no  more 
than  from  the  law  of  gravitation.  The  only 
question  is,  what  shall  that  relation  be.'* 

That  relation  may  take  one  of  three  forms: 
It  may  be  antagonism.  The  suffering,  the 
inconsistencies,  the  sins  of  the  world,  may 
create  this  mood  of  antagonism  in  man.  It 
may  also  be  a  relation  of  thoughtlessness,  of 
indifference  of  heart,  and  of  the  will.  One  may 
be  so  absorbed  in  the  seen,  the  heard,  that  one 
has  no  heed  for  the  unseen  and  the  eternal.  It 
also  may  be  one  of  trustfulness.  Love, 
obedience,  faith,  are  the  keynotes  of  this  song. 
The  trust  is  a  faith  in  the  character  of,  and  an 
obedience  to  the  will  of,  God. 

[  207  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

In  seeking  to  interpret  the  importance  of 
religion  one  finds  light  in  that  richest  field  of 
human  endeavor,  literature.  Literature  as 
the  noblest  expression  of  humanity  has  closest 
kinship  with  religion,  and  literature  we  may- 
use  to  interpret  the  nature  of  religion.  Litera- 
ture and  religion  spring  from  the  same  funda- 
mental sources.  Religion  may  be  defined  as 
the  relation  which  man  bears  to  Ultimate 
Being.  Religion  is  concerned  with  the  sub- 
stance which  lies  behind  phenomena  and  also 
with  the  duty  of  man  to  this  Being,  universal 
and  eternal.  It  considers,  too,  what,  whence, 
whether.  Literature  in  its  final  analysis  repre- 
sents the  same  fundamental  relationship:  it 
seeks  to  explain,  to  justify,  to  reconcile,  to 
interpret,  and  even  to  comfort  and  to  console. 
The  Homeric  poems  are  pervaded  with  the  re- 
ligious atmosphere  of  wonder,  of  obedience  to 
the  eternal,  and  of  the  recognition  of  the 
interest  of  the  gods  in  human  affairs.  A 
more  significant  place  does  religion  hold  in 
Greek  tragedy.  A  divine  providence,  the 
eternity,  universality  and  immutability  of 
law,  the  inevitableness  of  penalty,  and  the 
assurahce  of  reward  represent  great  forces  in 
the  three  chief  Greek  tragedians.  Less  im- 
pressively, yet  with  significance,  the  poems  of 

[  208  ] 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  RELIGION 

Virgil  are  bathed  in  the  air  of  religious  mystery 
and  submission.  The  great  work  of  Lucretius 
is,  of  course,  an  expression  of  the  human  mind 
in  its  attempt  to  penetrate  the  mysteries  of 
being.  The  mythology,  too,  of  the  nations 
of  the  north,  as  well  as  the  literature  of  the 
mediaeval  peoples,  are  concerned  with  the 
existence  and  the  work  of  the  gods.  In 
Scandinavian  mythology,  literature  and  re- 
ligion are  in  no  small  degree  united. 

Not  only  do  religion  and  literature  spring 
from  the  same  fundamental  sources;  they  also 
are  formed  by  the  same  forces.  They  both 
make  a  constant  appeal  to  life.  They  pre- 
sume the  strength  of  the  human  emotions  — 
fear,  curiosity,  reverence  —  and  they  both 
accept  the  categorical  imperative  of  the 
conscience  and  of  the  will  of  man.  Both  gain 
in  dominance,  prestige,  and  usefulness  as  they 
are  the  more  intimately  related  to  life.  The 
great  themes  of  religion  and  literature  are 
similar  and  are  vital:  sin,  its  origin,  penalties 
and  deliverance  therefrom;  love,  the  passion 
and  the  will,  its  place  and  its  limitations; 
righteousness,  and  the  relation  of  men  to  each 
other.  In  illustration  of  the  likenesses  of  the 
themes  of  religion  and  literature,  one  may  refer 
to  Dante's  Divine    Comedy,    which    is    con- 

[209] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

cerned  with  the  passing  into  and  through  Hell, 
where  live  those  who  knew  not  Christ  in  the 
earthly  life  or,  if  they  knew  Him,  refused  to 
obey;  through  Purgatory,  where  dwell  those 
whose  sins  are  not  mortal,  and  to  and  into 
the  Paradise  where  dwell  the  righteous  in  an 
eternity  of  light  and  of  love.  The  great  poem 
of  the  Middle  Ages  is  at  once  great  literature 
and  a  certain  type  of  religion.  The  whole  field 
of  modern  fiction  abounds  in  examples  of  the 
connection  between  literature  and  religion; 
Hawthorne  significantly  represents  the  more 
modern  American  unity  of  the  two  forces,  and 
among  all  his  works  the  "  Scarlet  Letter  "  and 
the  "  Marble  Faun  "  are  most  notable  in  this 
respect.  In  English  fiction  George  Eliot  ex- 
emplifies this  unity,  and  of  her  works  "  Adam 
Bede  "  is  the  most  significant  illustration. 

The  teaching  of  the  greatest  poets  of  the  last 
fifty  years  of  any  language  gives  forth  lessons 
even  more  religious,  and  almost  more  impres- 
sively Christian.  The  poems  of  Browning 
embody  a  religion  most  vital  and  real.  That 
God  is  a  divine  father,  almighty  and  loving, 
and  that  Jesus  Christ,  his  son,  is  our  Lord,  are 
doctrines  which  embody  both  statement  and  the 
atmosphere  of  Robert  Browning.  The  Pontiff 
says  in  "The  Pope"  in  an  address  made  to  God : 

[210] 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  RELIGION 

"Our  known  unknown,  our  God  revealed  to  man. 
Existent  somewhere,  somehow,  as  a  whole; 
Here,  as  a  whole  proportioned  to  our  sense,  — 
There  (which  is  nowhere,  speech  must  babble  thus!), 
In  the  absolute  immensity,  the  whole 
Appreciable  solely  by  Thyself,  — 
Here,  by  the  little  mind  of  man,  reduced 
To  littleness  that  suits  his  faculty, 
In  the  degree  appreciable  too." 

In  Other  passages  Browning  speaks  of  "  a  need, 
a  trust,  a  yearning  after  God."  The  air  is 
called  the  "  clear,  pure  breath  of  God  that 
loveth  us."     It  is  also  said: 

"  What  is  it  that  I  hunger  for  but  God? 
My  God,  my  God,  let  me  for  once  look  on  Thee 
As  though  nought  else  existed,  we  alone!  " 

The  highest  voice  of  humanity,  heard  in  its 
great  literature,  is  testimony  of  the  supreme 
importance  of  religion. 

Is  literature  great?  Does  it  represent  the 
past  worthily?  Does  it  interpret  man  fully? 
Does  it  move  man  deeply?  If  it  does,  then  I 
say  religion  is  great.  For  religion  represents  the 
past  worthily.  It  interprets  man  fully.  It 
moves  man  deeply. 

While  I  thus  speak  in  general  of  religion,  I 
refer  almost  unconsciously  to  the  Christian 
faith,  for  it  seems  to  gather  up  and  to  embody 

[211] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

the  worthiest  in  all  other  systems  of  belief. 
The  Christian  religion  is  a  religion  of  self- 
sacrifice,  but  under  its  self-sacrifice  it  accepts 
the  truth  of  renunciation,  the  chief  article  in 
the  creed  of  millions  of  people,  yet  it  supple- 
ments its  renunciation  by  greater  affirmations 
and  the  richest  enjoyments  and  fulfilments 
of  life.  The  Christian  religion  is  a  religion  of 
communion,  but  under  its  doctrine  of  commun- 
ion it  accepts  that  article  of  the  great  creed  of 
absorption  in  the  eternal,  interpreting  this 
teaching  as  a  fellowship  which,  becoming 
personal,  lifts,  and  enlarges,  and  enriches. 
The  Christian  religion  is  a  religion  of  mutual 
helpfulness  and  reciprocity.  It  accepts  the 
teaching  of  Confucianism,  of  reciprocity,  and 
transmutes  the  doctrine  into  a  love  for  one's 
neighbor  greater  than  one's  love  for  oneself. 
The  Christian  religion  is  a  religion  of  obedience 
to  law,  but  it  accepts  the  teaching  of  Islamism 
of  submission,  purifying  the  doctrine  into 
obedience  to  righteous  commandments,  which 
are  summed  up  in  the  supreme  commandment 
of  loving  God  with  all  one's  mind  and  one's 
heart  and  one's  strength.  The  Christian  faith 
gathers  up  out  of  all  the  past  the  worthiest 
of  all  creeds  and  through  them  offers  to  man 
the  ultimate  and  supreme  faith. 

[212] 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  RELIGION 

The  Christian  religion  gives  to  man  a 
standard,  the  ultimate  standard.  It  gives 
a  standard  for  the  intellect,  to  know,  to 
understand,  to  think;  a  standard  for  the 
conscience,  whose  imperatives  are  right  and 
whose  judgments,  though  a  great  deep,  are 
as  good  as  they  are  categorical;  a  standard  for 
the  will,  of  the  power  of  choice  —  choice  of 
the  true,  the  good,  the  beautiful;  a  standard 
for  the  heart,  offering  an  object  worthy  of 
supreme  and  deathless  love.  Religion  gives 
a  standard  for  the  race  as  well  as  for  the  in- 
dividual—  a  rule  which  the  race,  moving 
through  infinite  space  and  time,  can  readily 
obey,  a  height  of  attainment  for  which  the 
race  can  worthily  strive.  The  Christian  faith 
gives  not  only  a  standard.  It  also  fills  up  a 
lack  and  supplies  the  needs  of  humanity.  In 
a  world  of  movement,  it  gives  something  fixed. 
In  a  world  of  losses  it  offers  that  which  cannot 
be  lost.  In  a  world  of  pain,  it  holds  forth 
comfort.  In  a  world  finite,  it  holds  out  the 
infinite.  In  a  world  of  sin  it  teaches  repentance 
and  pardon.  In  a  world  simply  human,  it 
gives  the  divine. 

This  appeal  of  the  greatness  of  religion  finds 
re-enforcement  in  the  times  in  which  we  live. 
My  appeal  is  for  you  to  think  the  broadest, 

[213] 


THE   COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

feel  the  deepest,  choose  the  highest,  —  cubical 
relations  all.  Relations  should  represent  re- 
ligion. But  the  appeal  of  the  times  is  likewise 
for  broadest  thinking,  deepest  feeling,  and 
highest  choosing.  War  does  contradict  these 
intellectual  conceptions:  first,  that  God  is  the 
father  of  all  men;  second,  that  all  men  are 
brothers;  third,  that  nature's  forces  are  for 
beneficent  uses.  Yet  in  another  sense,  —  an 
emotional  one  largely,  —  war  does  lift  a 
nation.  A  world's  civil  war  lifts  the  world 
above  the  mean,  out  of  the  frivolous,  away  from 
the  petty,  into  the  heroic,  the  human,  the 
divine,  the  infinite.  No  one  of  you,  though 
more  than  three  thousand  miles  away  from 
Belgium  and  Poland,  can  live  these  months 
and  years  and  be  the  same  men  and  women  that 
you  would  have  been  in  time  of  quiet  peace. 
To  be  the  same  would  be  faithlessness  to  the 
future  and  treason  to  humanity.  It  was  said 
of  some  of  our  college  boys  who  fought  in  the 
civil  war  that  enlistment  seemed  to  have 
changed  them — boys  into  men.  So  this 
world's  civil  strife,  even  if  you  bear  no  rifle 
and  draw  no  sword,  has  in  sympathy  made  you 
a  world-citizen,  in  loyalty  a  disciple  of  the 
highest,  in  service  an  apostle  of  the  God  of  all 
nations,  and  of  all  men. 

[214] 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  RELIGION 

Religion  is  at  first  personal.  But  if  it  be 
only  personal,  it  is  only  partial.  Religion  is 
to  be  organized.  It  is  to  become  social.  It 
is  to  cause  men  to  unite.  Organized  religion 
is  called  by  various  names:  the  church,  the 
meeting,  the  congregation,  the  parish,  the 
society.  To  me  at  this  moment  the  names 
have  no  value.  My  chief  insistence  is  that 
in  the  religious  society  approaching  most 
closely  to  your  intellectual  and  moral  and 
religious  sympathies  you  should  become  a 
part  and  a  partner.  That  society  may  be 
historic,  built  out  of  memories  and  teachings 
and  traditions  reaching  back  thousands  of 
years.  It  may  embody  annals  of  prophets  and 
martyrs,  and  tales  of  disciples  and  apostles 
may  form  its  birthright.  Or,  that  society 
may  be  new,  novel,  simple,  plain,  prosaic, 
without  chants,  or  psalms,  or  song.  Or  that 
society  may  be  hardly  an  association  at  all, 
but  a  process  or  form  of  activity  to  help  those 
men  up  who  are  down,  and  to  help  men  who 
are  out  in  the  darkness  and  dirt  and  squalor 
and  sin  into  light  and  laughter,  into  cleanliness 
and  righteousness.  But  whatever  that  society 
may  be,  or  whatever  name  it  may  bear,  to 
which  you  feel  yourself  in  closest  affihation  — 
into  that  put  yourself  completely,  thoroughly. 

[215] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

Work  in  it,  and  with  it  and  for  it  and  through 
it.  In  such  a  co-partnership  you  will  multiply 
your  individuality  and  increase  your  power  a 
thousand  times.  In  your  belief  be  an  in- 
dividualist. In  your  service  be  a  unionist,  a 
commoner. 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Classes: 

Tonight  at  least  two  great  and  high  ideals 
move  your  souls.  You  would  be  good  and 
do  the  right  —  you  would  make  your  life,  like 
the  city  of  God,  four-square.  You  would 
be  builders,  not  destroyers.  You  would  be  the 
worthiest.  Moreover,  also,  you  would  be 
kind,  gentle,  and  courageous,  possessing  hearts 
that  are  warm  as  well  as  thoughts  that  are 
high,  and  a  good  will  for  all,  as  well  as  a  con- 
science that  is  keen.  Truth  with  righteous- 
ness and  righteousness  with  beneficence  you 
would  make  the  atmosphere  and  ideals  of 
your  character  and  service.  Above  and  be- 
neath all  minor  and  lesser  ideals  these  two, 
truth  and  love,  prevail.  To  reach  these  ideals 
I  offer  to  you  the  force,  beauty  and  inspiration 
of  the  Christian  faith.  That  faith  is  the  tide 
which  sweeps  the  ship  of  moral  struggle  out  into 
the  deep  seas  of  vision  and  of  service.  It  is  the 
river  which  gives  life  and  flower  and  fruitage 

[216] 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  RELIGION 

unto  all  the  plants  of  your  moral  seed-sowing. 
It  is  the  love  which  bears  good  into  your  souls. 
The  future  years  will  silently  go  by.  As  they 
go  by,  many  details  of  college  life  will  become 
obscured.  But  as  the  college  years  recede,  the 
outlines,  like  the  slope  of  far-off  mountains,  will 
become  more  clear.  Friendships,  atmospheres, 
tendencies  will  emerge.  One  great  result  — 
may  it  become  the  greatest — which  I  would 
have  you  cherish  is  the  idea  and  the  feeling  of 
the  infinite  importance  of  your  relation  to  your 
God,  the  relation  of  obedience,  of  communion, 
of  gratitude,  of  love,  and  of  peace. 


[217] 


XIII 

THE  LOOKING  BACKWARD  OF 

CHARACTER  AND  OF 

ACHIEVEMENT 


Chapter  XIII 

THE  LOOKING  BACKWARD  OF 
CHARACTER  AND  OF  ACHIEVEMENT 

[1916] 

"  That  they,  without  us,  should  not  be  made  perfect." — 
Hebrews  xi :  40. 

THESE  words  conclude  a  great  passage  of 
memorial  literature.  The  passage  eulo- 
gizes heroes :  —  heroes  who  have  sub- 
dued kingdoms,  who  have  fought  with  wild 
beasts,  who  have  endured  violence  and  flinched 
not,  who  have  battled  with  men  and  won,  who 
have  suffered  persecution  of  fire,  of  sword,  of 
saw,  and  recanted  not,  who  have  wandered 
homeless  or  whose  homes  have  been  in  dens  and 
caves,  who  have  hungered,  thirsted,  been 
destitute  and  afflicted,  and  have  proved  them- 
selves conquerors.  The  passage  tells  of  the 
pioneer,  Abraham,  of  the  statesman,  Joseph, 
of  the  legislator,  Moses,  of  the  king  who  was  a 
poet  and  of  the  poet  who  was  a  king,  David. 
Rich  was  their  achievement,  strong  their 
character,  patient  their  endurance,  lofty  their 
hope,  mighty  the  results  they  won.     Yet,  de- 

[221] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

clares  the  writer,  however  rich  their  achieve- 
ment, however  strong  their  character,  however 
patient  their  endurance,  however  lofty  their 
hopes,  however  mighty  the  results  they  won, 
their  character  was  not  perfect,  their  labor  and 
suffering  not  complete,  without  us,  living 
thousands  of  years  after  they  were  dead  and  in 
conditions  unlike  their  own. 

Therefore  the  subject  of  the  address  is 
^^The  Looking  Backward  of  Character  and  of 
Achievement,^^ 

In  its  influence  character  is  commonly  sup- 
posed to  relate  to  the  future  only.  Achieve- 
ment of  its  aims  and  results  is  assumed  to  be 
of  the  next  year  or  decade.  But  this  writer 
declares  that  character  looks  backward  and 
that  achievement  concerns  the  past.  Both 
are  conservative,  retroactive,  supplementary. 
The  ship  which  carries  lights  forward  also 
carries  lights  at  its  stern  and  they  shine  out 
upon  the  course  which  has  been  run. 

The  truth  of  our  principle  receives  special 
evidence  in  the  development  of  modern  civiliza- 
tion. Modern  civilization  is  the  resultant  of 
at  least  four  great  forces,  the  force  of  religion, 
the  force  of  beauty,  the  force  of  government, 
and  the  force  of  liberty.  The  force  of  religion 
is  derived  primarily  from  the  Hebrew  race. 

[222] 


LOOKING  BACKWARD 

The  force  of  beauty  is  derived  from  the 
Greek  race.  The  force  of  government  is  de- 
rived from  the  Roman  race,  and  the  force  of 
liberty  is  derived  primarily  from  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  race.  This  quartette  of  forces  has  given 
us  Western  Europe  and  the  American  common- 
wealth, born  of  Western  Europe.  How  slow 
has  been  the  development,  how  hesitant  the 
rise,  how  swift  often  the  decline!  What  dis- 
integrating conditions  overcome,  what  patience 
demanded,  what  inspirations  needed,  for  trans- 
muting aspirations  into  achievements!  What 
narrowness  turned  to  breadth,  what  alternation 
of  desolateness  and  happiness,  what  Magna 
Chartas,  besides  King  John's,  demanded  and 
granted,  what  commonwealths,  besides  Crom- 
well's, social,  ecclesiastic,  scholastic,  as  well  as 
political,  established  and  superseded!  What 
funeral  pyres  of  the  brave  and  the  true,  lighting 
the  advancing  path  of  man,  what  ashes  of  the 
same  pyres,  cast  on  the  river  of  time,  drifting 
out  into  the  sea  of  forgetfulness,  unmourned 
and  unsung!  But  out  of  these  progresses  and 
regresses  has  come  what  we  call  civilization. 
Out  of  these  progresses  and  regresses  has  come 
our  America. 

And  what,  be  it  asked,  in  another  form,  what 
has  our  America,  our  America  of  today,  cost.^ 

[  223  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

It  has  cost  the  learning  and  sacrifice,  the  vision 
and  the  faith,  the  patience  and  endeavor  of  ten 
generations.  What  has  our  church  cost?  It 
has  cost  tolerance  in  the  midst  of  intolerance, 
faith  in  the  midst  of  doubt  and  doubtfulness, 
trust  in  God  in  the  midst  of  heresy,  holding  to 
truth  in  the  teeth  of  scorn,  loyalty  in  the  face 
of  shame  and  hatred.  And  what  has  our 
government  cost?  The  answer  is  ready  on 
your  lips  before  I  speak.  It  has  cost  wisdom 
and  foresight,  thought  and  will,  patriotism  and 
daring,  life  and  all  that  life  stands  for,  the  fam- 
ily and  all  that  the  family  means.  In  our 
liberty  and  union,  what  have  they,  parts  of 
government,  cost?  Have  they  not  cost  a 
Washington,  a  Lincoln,  a  Hamilton,  a  Seward, 
a  Hay,  oceans  of  blood  and  mountains  of 
treasure? 

But  these  are  things  which  cannot  be  calcu- 
lated, and  do  you  know  how  easily  these  costs 
could  be  destroyed?  Do  you  know  that 
what  America  has  cost  in  education  could  today 
be  destroyed  by  making  education  material- 
istic and  sordid?  Do  you  know  that  what 
America  has  cost  in  religion  could  today  be 
destroyed  by  making  the  institutions  of  religion 
superfluous  and  unhuman,  artificial  and  formal? 
Do  you  know  that  what  America  has  cost  in 

[  224:] 


LOOKING  BACKWARD 

government  could  today  be  destroyed  by 
making  government  selfish  and  of  the  classes? 
Do  you  know  that  what  America  has  cost  in 
liberty  and  in  union  could  today  be  destroyed 
by  the  domination  of  labor  unions  or  the  in- 
stallation of  class  leagues  and  societies?  But, 
aflftrmatively,  be  it  said,  that  the  civilization 
which  the  Mayflower  brought  in  government 
and  in  church — a  church  which  the  compact 
drawn  up  in  the  Mayflower  cabin  stands  for  — 
is  saved  only  by  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the 
Pilgrims  believing  in  the  God  whom  their  fore- 
fathers worshiped,  believing  in  the  democracy 
for  which  their  forefathers  risked  their  all, 
believing  in  the  simple  virtues,  of  justice, 
hardihood,  bravery,  which  clothed  them  as  a 
garment.  American  civilization,  born  of  Eng- 
lish, of  French,  of  German,  of  Dutch,  and  of 
other  races,  and  existing  and  flourishing  for 
three  hundred  years,  is  a  flower  faded,  a  sun 
burned  out,  an  experiment  failed,  unless  we,  its 
present  exponents,  defenders,  promoters,  prop- 
erly incarnate  its  strength  and  express  its 
graces.  They,  the  Carvers,  the  Bradfords,  the 
Standishes,  the  Washingtons  and  the  Lincolns, 
are  not  perfect  save  as  we  are^  and  as  we  do^ 
the  best.  That  they,  without  us,  should  not  be 
made  perfect, 

[225] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

Let  me  also  ask,  in  a  personal  way,  what  has 
your  life,  up  to  its  present  hour,  cost  you?  I 
might  ask  what  has  your  life  cost  your  home, 
or  the  community.  But  I  do  permit  myself 
to  ask  a  more  searching  question,  what  has 
your  life  cost  yourself?  It  has  cost  you  affec- 
tion in  its  first  age,  imagination  in  its  second, 
and  reason  in  its  third  age,  an  age  which  you 
are  now^  beginning.  By  and  by  it  will  cost  you 
the  force  and  the  store  of  memory.  In  affec- 
tion, your  life  has  cost  you  the  giving  of  love, 
the  making  of  sacrifice,  the  daring  of  adventure. 
In  imagination  and  in  reason  your  life  has  cost 
you  thought  and  anxiety,  patience  and  waiting, 
the  restlessness  of  ambition,  the  curbing  of 
appetite,  the  suppression  of  temptation  to 
meanness  and  to  jealousy,  the  curbing  of  im- 
pulse and  of  waywardness,  the  loss  of  indul- 
gence and  of  pleasure.  It  has  cost  you  the 
living  up  to  high  ideals  and  the  holding  of  your 
mind  and  will  to  far-off  things.  Your  life  has 
cost  you  the  new  three  R's  of  education,  re- 
flection, reconsecration,  reconstruction.  The 
cost  has  been  a  piling  up,  an  Ossa  on  Pelion, 
for  a  score  of  years.  Every  will  you  now  will, 
or  are  to  will,  is  to  make  every  worthy  will  of 
your  past  more  aspiring.  Every  affection 
you  now  feel,  broad,  and  tender,  is  to  render 

[226] 


LOOKING  BACKWARD 

every  affection  of  the  past,  year  by  year, 
broader,  more  tender  and  more  controlling. 
Every  ideal  which  you  lift  before  yourself  is  to 
give  a  cap-stone  more  lofty  to  every  past 
fundamental  purpose.  Every  thought  you 
entertain  is  to  enlarge,  to  enrich,  to  heighten, 
every  thought  that  has  been  yours  in  all  the 
years  you  have  lived.  Every  deed  you  do, 
every  achievement  you  make,  every  victory 
you  win  is  to  give  wings  and  power  and  glory  to 
all  the  worthy  thoughts  and  achievements  and 
victories  which  have  been  yours.  So  also,  with 
evident  and  painful  truthfulness  may  it  be 
added,  all  the  unworthiness,  the  evils,  the  nar- 
rowness, the  disobedience,  the  wrongs  and  the 
sins  of  the  past  take  to  themselves  an  un- 
worthiness more  black,  a  narrowness  more 
shriveling,  a  wrongfulness  more  wrong  and  a 
sinfulness  more  sinful,  by  your  present  un- 
worthiness, narrowness,  wrong  and  sin.  Like- 
wise, on  the  other  side,  the  goodness  of  the  past 
is  made  purer,  the  rightfulness  of  the  past 
more  right,  the  worthiness  of  the  past  more 
worthy,  by  your  present  goodness,  rightfulness, 
worthiness. 

But,  more  and  more,  in  a  way  which  is  at 
once  regressive  and  progressive,  my  thought 
goes  out.     I  think  of  those  who  are  to  follow 

[  227  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

you.  I  think  of  those  who  are  to  come  into 
places  that  you  now  fill.  I  have  in  mind  those 
who  will  finally  come  to  look  upon  you  as  you 
look  back  upon  preceding  generations.  What 
are  you  doing,  what  are  you  to  do,  what  are 
you  being,  what  are  you  to  be,  or  to  become, 
to  make  it  worth  while  for  them,  the  followers, 
to  labor  and  to  strive  to  make  your  work  and 
your  character  perfect?  By  you  I  do  not  mean 
only  you  who  occupy  these  pews.  I  mean 
humanity.  I  mean  our  brothers  and  sisters 
of  the  race  and  of  the  races.  What  is  man 
today  doing  or  being  to  make  his  child 
and  grandchild,  in  the  sixth  generation,  feel 
that  they  are  to  complete  his  service  and  to 
enrich  his  achievement?  We  know  too  well 
what  man  is  doing  in  some  fields  1  But  what 
can  man  do?     What  should  he  do  and  be? 

There  are  two  things  which  man  can  and 
should  do  today  to  make  his  character  and  his 
achievement  worthy  of  the  completing  and 
perfecting  by  those  who  are  to  follow  in  the 
far-off  future. 

The  first  is  that  man  should  have  and  should 
be  controlled  by  the  desire  and  the  instinct  for 
leadership.  The  nations  need  leadership.  Be- 
yond a  few  personalities,  and  they  are  very 
few,  the  world  today  has  no  figure  of  inter- 

[228] 


LOOKING  BACKWARD 

national  preeminence.  The  voices  are  many. 
The  echoes  are  more.  The  commanding  per- 
sonality, where  and  who  is  he?  For  what  does 
constitute  leadership?  What  are  the  qualities 
which  make  a  great  leader? 

First,  an  intellectual  appreciation  of  the 
cause  in  which  one  is  to  lead.  This  apprecia- 
tion is  a  sense  of  proportion.  It  is  discrimi- 
nation. It  embodies  an  understanding  of 
relationships.  It  detects  where  stress  is  to  be 
laid  heavily  and  where  emphasis  is  to  be  made 
light.  It  means  often  the  giving  up  of  the 
outlying  forts  of  an  argument  or  of  a  move- 
ment in  order  to  defend  the  central  fortress. 
It  stands  for  understanding  a  cause  and  esti- 
mating the  forces  supporting  and  opposing. 

A  second  element  is  sympathy.  Sympathy 
is  the  fellow-feeling  with  one's  followers  and  a 
fellow-feeling  of  the  followers  with  oneself,  the 
leader.  Such  fellowship  spells  unity.  Such 
was  the  leadership  of  Lincoln  with  the  Illinois 
Whigs  and  Republicans  in  the  decade  before 
the  Civil  War.  Lincoln  thought  their  thoughts, 
felt  their  feelings,  and  they  his.  Although 
his  power  had  gone  far  beyond  the  power  of 
his  old  neighbors  and  friends,  yet  their  sym- 
pathies for  each  other  continued  warm  and 
deep.     Sympathy  means  also  remoteness,  as 

[  229  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

well  as  community,  of  fellowship.  For  a 
leader  is  to  lead.  He  is  to  be  the  head  of  the 
column.  Yet  he  is  not  to  be  so  far  ahead  that 
the  hosts  cannot  see  his  form  or  hear  his  voice. 
Leadership  means  sympathy  born  at  once  of 
oneness  and  of  elevation. 

With  the  quality  of  sympathy  is  to  be  joined 
courage.  Risks  are  found  in  every  movement. 
These  rjsks  the  leader  accepts  and  glories  over. 
Dangers  abound,  but  these  dangers  the  leader 
is  to  meet  and  to  overcome.  Courage  is  not 
foolhardiness.  It  does  not  mean  blindness  to 
peril.  Neither  is  courage  seeing  the  peril  and 
standing  dazed,  without  fear,  before  its  threat. 
Courage  is  knowing,  feeling,  appreciating  the 
danger,  and  setting  one's  face  against  it  and 
making  bare  one's  breast  to  its  arrows.  Any 
hour  may  give  any  man  or  woman  the  oppor- 
tunity for  the  use  of  courage  which  spells 
leadership. 

Wit  and  humor,  too,  should  not  be  omitted 
from  the  list.  Wit  sees,  humor  feels,  the  in- 
congruities of  a  condition.  These  incongruities 
the  quick  tongue  makes  clear.  Mr.  Lincoln 
had  both  of  these  qualities  and  the  great 
Secretary  Hay  was  not  wanting  in  them.  With 
the  possession  of  such  gifts  the  following  is 
made  easier  and  more  effective,  and  the  guid- 

[230] 


LOOKING  BACKWARD 

ance  more  inspiring  to  the  guide  and  to  the 
obeying  ranks. 

A  further  quality  is  that  of  imaginative 
picturesqueness.  The  leader  is  if  possible  to  be 
a  picturesque  figure.  He  is  to  make  an  appeal 
to  the  imagination.  The  merely  logical  seldom 
quickens  the  heart.  The  merely  logical  seldom 
moves  the  will.  The  song  element  is  to  be 
heard,  the  rhythmic  element  to  be  felt.  Was 
it  not  the  "  rail-splitter  "  for  whom  many  of 
the  common  people  of  the  prairie  voted  in 
1860?  Was  it  not  the  "little  giant"  who 
was,  two  years  before,  the  antagonist  on  the 
stump  with  the  same  man  of  the  axe?  Was  it 
not  the  "  plumed  knight  "  for  whom  many 
voted  as  their  president,  thirty  years  ago? 

But  still  one  may  have  all  these  qualities 
and  not  be  a  great  leader.  The  gift  of  leader- 
ship seems  to  be  a  gift.  It  can  be  analyzed 
but  the  thing  itself  may  pass  on  beyond  the 
quality  of  analysis.  Arthur  Balfour  has  in- 
tellectual discernment,  sympathy,  wit,  imagi- 
nation, but  he  has  lacked  the  real  gift  of  the 
leadership  of  his  party. 

A  second  thing,  which  humanity  needs  today 
to  make  its  character  and  service  worthy  of 
the  completing  and  perfecting  of  the  future, 
is  found  in  human  confidence,  in  the  confidence 

1231] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

which  man  has  in  man.  It  is  the  confidence 
of  the  individual  in  the  individual.  It  is  the 
confidence  of  the  nation  in  the  nations,  the  con- 
fidence of  the  race  and  of  the  other  races  in 
each  other,  the  confidence  of  the  rich  in  the 
poor,  and  of  the  poor  in  the  rich,  the  confidence 
of  the  capitalist  in  the  laborer  and  the  laborer 
in  the  capitalist,  the  confidence  of  the  noble 
and  the  great  in  the  obscure,  and  of  the  obscure 
in  the  noble  and  the  great.  This  confidence  is 
the  most  precious  thing.  The  lack  of  it  is  the 
great  lack.  The  lack  of  it  is  the  cause  of 
humanity's  downfall.  It  is  to  begin  in  the 
worthiness  of  confidence  in  the  integrity  of 
individual  character,  in  the  reality  and  in  the 
incarnation  of  the  verities  and  the  virtues. 
It  is  to  begin  with  the  man,  the  single  man,  the 
one  person.  He  is  to  be  the  best  and  the  other 
man  just  as  good.  For  such  a  consummation 
of  confidence,  no  struggle  is  too  hard,  no  labor 
too  great,  no  agony  too  intense.  It  must  be 
had,  this  confidence  of  man  in  man,  if  the  world 
is  to  stand,  if  civilization  is  to  go  on.  The 
present  agony  of  the  world  is  the  result  of  the 
lack  of  confidence  of  man  in  man. 

The  centuries  are  bound  together,  bound 
not  by  hoops  of  steel,  but  bound  together  as 
every  part  of  our  body  is  bound  to  every  other 

[232] 


LOOKING  BACKWARD 

part,  or  as  the  waters  of  the  Gulf  Stream  are 
united  with  great  continental  currents  and 
movements,  by  vital  or  co-operative  relation- 
ship. The  humanity  of  the  past  is  a  part  of 
the  humanity  of  the  present,  —  and  the  present 
is  a  part  of  that  which  has  been  and  also  of 
that  which  is  to  be.  No  humanity  of  the 
future  can  become  perfect  unless  that  of  the 
present  transmits  to  it  something  worthy  of  its 
adventure,  "  that  they  without  us  should  not 
be  made  perfect,'*^ 

These  remarks  take  to  themselves  special 
application  and  significance  in  the  beginning 
of  the  last  decade  of  the  first  century  of  our 
oldest  college.  What  men  those  founders 
were!  What  men  and  women  have  they  been 
in  every  age!  What  splendor  of  vision,  what 
coolness  of  daring,  what  strength  of  hope, 
what  valor  in  privation,  what  endurance  in 
seeing  the  invisible,  what  a  re-birth  of  the 
heroes  of  the  eleventh  of  Hebrews !  They  would 
be  the  last  to  describe  themselves  as  I  have 
interpreted  them.  But  from  the  halls  of  the 
past,  over  which  death  has  drawn  a  veil,  I  like 
to  call  out  their  names;  of  servants  of  the 
State,  Hoadly  and  Woods  and  Taylor  and  Up- 
son and  Williamson;  of  servants  of  the  church, 
like  Chamberlain,  and  the  Scudders  of  India, 

[233  ] 


THE|COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

Munger,  and  Joslah  Strong;  of  scholars  like 
Newberry  and  Seymour  and  Young  and  Loomis 
and  Bartlett,  and  of  scores  of  others  who  have 
subdued  kingdoms,  wrought  righteousness, 
obtained  promises,  who,  out  of  weakness, 
were  made  strong,  who  waxed  valiant  in  fight. 
Time  would  fail  me  to  tell  of  Allen,  of  Bushnell, 
of  Mathews,  of  Emerson,  of  Hart,  of  Conger, 
of  Bissell,  of  Burton,  of  Barrows,  of  Sanders,  of 
Curtis,  and  of  hundreds  of  others  who  have 
wrought  righteousness  in  the  struggle  for 
humanity. 

We  are  their  children.  Happier  are  our 
times,  richer  our  circumstance,  ampler  our 
scholarship,  finer  our  endowment.  Is  their 
work  to  fail?  Are  their  bequests  to  be  lost, 
their  ideals  to  fall,  their  struggles  to  be  van- 
quished, their  past  to  die.'*  Nay,  is  the  answer. 
For  our  clear  thinking  shall  confirm  their 
thought;  our  right  willing  shall  complete  their 
holy  desire;  our  precious  aspirations  and 
achievements  shall  transmute  their  endeavors 
into  lasting  values;  our  doings  shall  gather  up 
the  results  of  their  sacrifice;  and  our  love  and 
our  faithfulness,  we  swear  it,  shall  take  all 
they  were  and  tried  to  be  and  all  they  did  and 
tried  to  do  and  shall  transmute  their  offering 
into  our   achievements,   into   our   characters, 

[234] 


LOOKING  BACKWARD 

which  shall  be  as  lasting  as  time,  as  rich  as 
humanity,  and  as  broad  as  life. 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Classes: 

Physicists  write  of  the  ultimate  end  toward 
which  the  universe  is  moving  through  un- 
measured space  in  limitless  time.  Where  that 
goal,  in  the  ways  of  space,  may  be,  or  in  what 
period  of  time  or  through  what  processes  that 
goal  may  be  reached,  they  do  not  venture  to 
prophesy.  But,  at  some  point  in  both  space 
and  time,  that  goal  shall  be  reached,  they  do 
recognize.  I  think  of  humanity  as  moving 
always  through  unmeasured  space  in  limitless 
time.  I  think  of  humanity  at  last  coming  to 
its  goal,  the  goal  of  perfection.  In  what  ways 
of  space  or  what  period  of  time  that  goal  may 
lie  or  be  reached,  I  know  not.  But,  guided 
by  education,  inspired  by  religion,  I  think  of 
humanity  at  last  as  coming  to  that  goal.  And 
what  is  that  goal  to  be?  What  is  to  be  the 
goal  of  religion?  The  knowledge  of  God's 
truth  in  this  world  and  in  the  world  to  come, 
life  everlasting.  What  is  to  be  the  goal  of 
life?  It  is  life  most  abundant.  What  is  to  be 
the  goal  of  education?  It  is  truth,  the  truth 
in  terms  of  intellect,  of  heart,  of  will  and  of 
conscience.     Is  that  goal  not  the  goal  of  life 

[  235  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

itself,  of  life  everlasting,  eternal,  not  simply  in 
duration,  but  in  the  depths  and  heights  and 
breadths  of  being?  Such  is  the  goal  toward 
which  I  think  of  humanity  as  going.  It  is  the 
goal  toward  which  I  think  of  you,  who  are 
the  crown  of  the  past,  who  are  the  beginning  of 
the  future  of  humanity,  as  also  moving.  To- 
night, as  you  stand,  I  summon  you  each  to 
pledge  ^yourself  that,  so  far  as  lieth  in  you,  you 
will  seek  to  advance  humanity  toward  this 
goal  through  perfecting  the  work  of  those 
who  have  preceded,  through  making  worthy 
the  work  of  those  who  are  to  follow  you,  in  the 
glorious  achieving  of  your  work  and  in  the 
perfecting  of  your  own  character. 


[236] 


XIV 

THE  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE 

INDIVIDUAL  FOR  THE 

COMMUNITY 


Chapter  XIV 

THE  RESPONSIBILITY  OF  THE 
INDIVIDUAL    FOR   THE    COMMUNITY 

[1917] 

"  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself." —  Matthew 
xix  :  19. 

THE  New  Testament  has  two  chief  words 
for  love,  agapao  and  phileo.  The  one 
used  in  my  text  is  agapao.  It  repre- 
sents both  the  intellect  and  the  heart,  but  the 
intellect  more  fully.  Phileo  represents  both 
the  intellect  and  the  heart,  but  the  heart 
primarily.  In  the  intellectual  act  love  inter- 
preted as  agapao  has  an  element  of  the  will. 
"  I  will  well  to  my  neighbor  "  would  not  be  a 
bad  translation.  This  good  will  to  my  neigh- 
bor represents  a  certain  appreciation  of  my 
neighbor.  The  emotional  element  is  largely 
eliminated.  The  intellectual,  the  volitional 
relation  of  each  man  to  his  neighbor  becomes 
chief  and  significant. 

Therefore  my  theme  is  The  Responsibility  of 
the  Individual  for  the  Whole  Community, 

[239] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

What  is  a  sense  of  responsibility  for  the 
community?  What  is  a  sense  of  responsi- 
bility of  which  we  speak  much  and  define 
little?  Is  it  not  akin  to  the  sense  of  duty  to 
others?  Does  not  altruism  embrace  it,  and 
more  too?  Does  it  not  mean  making  the 
community's  interests  one's  own  affair,  the 
community's  sorrows  one's  own  griefs,  the  com- 
munity's, failures  one's  own  defeats,  the 
community's  needs  one's  own  wants,  the  com- 
munity's burdens  weights  for  oneself  to  bear, 
the  community's  losses  one's  own  losses,  the 
community's  shame  one's  own  degradation, 
the  community's  fears  one's  own  dreads,  the 
community's  hopes  one's  own  assurances,  and 
the  community's  glories,  one's  own  triumphs? 
Does  the  phrase  not  represent  vicariousness? 
Does  it  not  mean  substitution?  Does  it  not 
spell  incorporation  with  another? 

Such  a  sense  for  the  community  belongs  to 
great  souls.  The  community  —  what  is  the 
community?  Is  it  your  street?  Yes,  it  is 
your  street.  Is  it  your  city?  Yes,  it  is  your 
city.  Is  it  your  state?  Yes,  it  is  your  state. 
Is  it  your  nation?  Yes,  it  is  your  nation.  Is  it 
your  world?     Yes,  it  is  your  world. 

Why  is  the  world  your  community?  Because 
the  community  is  that  with  which  you  have 

[240] 


INDIVIDUAL  RESPONSIBILITY 

certain  things  in  common.  With  the  world 
of  the  opposite  zone  even  you  have  many 
things  in  common.  The  world  is  tied  up  to- 
gether, many  articles,  in  the  same,  and  a  small, 
parcel.  The  world  is  like  a  globe  of  water. 
Pressure  at  one  point  affects  the  whole.  War's 
declaration  in  Europe  means  unrest  in  India, 
the  amount  of  gold  mined  in  this  country,  the 
doubling  of  the  price  of  nitre  in  Chile,  the 
tripling  of  the  cost  of  potatoes  in  Northern 
Maine.  The  whole  world  seems  like  the  human 
body.  A  pain  in  one  part  is  felt  in  the  whole. 
The  world  is  organic.  It  is  one,  —  one  out  of 
many,  yet  one,  —  one  in  many,  one  going  out 
to  many,  yet  one.  The  world  seems  almost 
like  a  person,  so  complete  is  it,  so  necessary 
part  to  part. 

It  is  to  train  men  and  women  to  understand 
this  sense  of  responsibility  of  the  individual 
for  all  and  to  undertake  the  service  which  this 
sense  embodies,  that  the  college  and  university 
exist.  Many  elements  can  be  named  which 
represent  the  purpose  of  an  academic  founda- 
tion. You  have  often  heard  them  from  me. 
I  shall  not  now  repeat.  But  beyond  and  above 
the  selfward  purpose  of  culture,  including  the 
mission  of  the  extension  of  the  field  of  knowl- 
edge,   including    also    the    sharpening    of    the 

I  241  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

knife  of  the  mind  and  increasing  its  cutting 
power,  embracing  the  giving  to  character 
weight  and  dignity,  beyond  and  above  intel- 
lectual freedom  and  creative  activity  and 
capacity,  is  the  higher,  deeper,  broader  purpose 
of  the  development  and  the  use  of  this  sense  of 
responsibility  for  all  people. 

There  are  several  fields  to  which  this  con- 
structive sense  of  responsibility,  which  the 
college  represents,  may  be  applied.  Of  course 
one  feels  that  one  field  is  education  itself. 
Education  has  come  to  be  regarded  as  the 
most  important  of  all  agencies  for  the  welfare 
of  the  nation.  Every  grade,  and  kind,  and 
order,  of  education  at  times  seems  to  me  the 
most  important.  The  lower  grades  are  the 
most  important,  for  most  folks  never  get  be- 
yond them.  The  common  studies  are  the  most 
important,  for  all  persons  use  them.  But 
really  the  most  important  order  of  education  is 
the  college.  For  from  the  college  comes  the 
teacher,  and  the  teacher  makes  the  class. 
From  the  college  comes  the  leader,  and  the 
leader  makes  the  school.  Who  are  the  men 
who  have  had  the  greatest  influence  over 
American  education.^  What  are  the  strongest 
forces,  who  the  inspiring  personalities  of 
American  education,  of    the  last    threescore 

[  2423 


INDIVIDUAL  RESPONSIBILITY 

years  and  ten?  Are  they  not  Horace  Mann, 
William  T.  Harris  and  Charles  W.  Eliot? 
Horace  Mann  reformed  the  public  school 
system  of  Massachusetts.  William  T.  Harris 
inspired  the  teachers  throughout  this  country 
unto  the  highest  ideals.  Eliot  gave  to  educa- 
tion freedom  in  method,  as  well  as  fullness  in 
content.  It  was  Brown  and  Yale  and  Harvard 
that  helped  to  give  these  leaders  and  teachers 
to  American  education  and  to  American  life. 
The  vagaries  found  in  education  —  and  they 
are  many — the  short  cuts  proposed  in  educa- 
tion—  and  they  are  not  a  few — the  reforms 
which  are  urged  in  education,  patent  educa- 
tional medicines,  educational  nostrums,  have 
not  come  from  the  colleges.  In  these  silly 
aifairs  of  the  schools  the  higher  education  has 
had  little  or  no  place.  The  college  feels  the 
responsibility  for  raising  men  and  women  unto 
the  nth  power  of  their  ability  by  those  great 
processes  of  orderly  disciplines,  of  truth- 
seeking  endeavors,  of  personal  influence,  which 
do,  and  must,  remain  permanent  and  normal 
in  the  midst  of  the  transient  and  abnormal 
changes  of  the  day  and  of  the  hour.  The 
college  does  feel  its  responsibility  for  the  whole 
system  of  the  education  of  the  people. 
The  college,  further,  recognizes  its  responsi- 

[243] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

bility  in  the  service  which  it  gives  in  the  crea- 
tion of  the  home.  The  maker  of  the  home  is 
a  woman,  and  every  woman  makes  a  home. 
She  may  be  a  wife,  or  not,  a  mother,  or  not, 
a  sister,  or  not.  But  she  is  a  daughter,  and 
probably  other.  At  least  in  one  relation  she 
makes  a  home.  The  home  is  now  beset  by 
many  foes,  some  open  and  some  insidious. 
The  dissipations  of  life,  quite  as  much  intel- 
lectual as  moral,  dry  up  its  stream  of  affection. 
The  absorptions  of  life  consume  its  proper 
interests.  Narrowness  of  vision  and  of  work 
robs  it  of  its  treasures  of  imagination.  Weari- 
ness of  life's  common  tasks  exhausts  its  springs 
of  strength.  The  trivialities,  which  surround 
its  daily  progress,  becloud  the  glories  of  its 
conquests  of  the  lasting  and  the  great.  Now  a 
college  like  ours  is  to  educate  women  to  be  the 
heads  and  the  hearts  of  homes.  For  the  col- 
lege creates  interests.  It  develops  resources. 
It  gives  breadth  without  thinness,  depth  with- 
out narrowness,  height  without  remoteness. 
It  grows  the  wings  of  imagination.  It  trans- 
mutes the  commonplace  into  dignities  and 
grandeurs  and  glories.  It  helps  to  make  every 
cradle  a  Bethlehem  manger,  and  every  humble 
path  of  duty  a  way  to  heaven  and  to  God.  The 
college  aids  in  making  such  homes,  and  when 

[244] 


INDIVIDUAL  RESPONSIBILITY 

such  homes   are  made,   the  earth  becomes  a 
heaven. 

The  college  also  feels  its  responsibility  for  the 
proper  conduct  of  business,  industrial,  mer- 
cantile. What  is  business?  It  is  the  making 
and  interchange  of  commodities.  What  is 
the  most  important  element  in  business.'*  The 
human.  Who  is  the  best  business  man.f*  The 
man  of  vision,  foresight,  prudence,  of  integrity, 
of  soundness  of  judgment,  of  courage,  of 
initiative,  of  outlook,  of  co-operation,  of  wide 
and  definite  knowledge,  of  inspiration,  of 
patience,  of  good  manners.  What  are  these 
but  the  qualities  which  the  college  is  training 
every  day  and  every  year.^  The  college  calls 
you  to  look  ahead,  to  be  sound  in  conscience, 
to  *  be  exact  in  thinking  and  in  statement. 
Student  life  develops  energy,  evokes  initiative. 
It  calls  out  co-operation.  It  requires  patience 
in  labor,  respect  for  others,  and  the  essence  of 
good  manners  in  all  its  doings.  College  does 
not  train  you  to  be  merchants  or  manufac- 
turers. But  it  seeks  to  train  you  into  character 
of  a  type  out  of  which  are  made  the  ablest 
manufacturers  and  the  best  buyers  and  sellers 
of  all  commodities.  The  college  feels  and 
seeks  to  use  its  sense  of  responsibility  for 
you. 

[  24S  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

The  college  also  tries  to  develop  a  sense  of 
responsibility  for  the  making  of  that  great 
power  called  the  newspaper.  The  newspaper 
is  a  picture  of  the  world,  an  interpretation 
of  humanity  and  of  nature.  In  this  world  are 
numberless  forces  of  action,  constant  or  in- 
frequent, of  power,  strong  or  slight,  of  im- 
portance, great  or  small.  The  newspaper  is  to 
present  the  action,  the  interaction,  the  play  and 
the  inter-play  and  the  by-play.  It  daily 
paints  a  picture  and  tells  a  story,  prints  a 
report  or  publishes  an  interview.  As  the  pic- 
ture is  painted  truthfully,  as  the  story  is  told 
with  interest  and  fair  proportion,  as  a  report 
reflects  what  humanity  should  know,  as  the 
interpretation  offers  what  humanity  should 
understand,  the  journal  is  great  or  not  great. 
Behind  it  all  stands  a  man,  or  a  body  of  men. 
If  they  are  truthful,  honest,  just,  lovers  of  their 
kind,  leaders  of  great  causes,  the  resulting 
journal  will  embody  these  same  great  elements. 
To  make  men  truthful  and  honest  and  earnest, 
to  inspire  them  to  be  lovers  of  their  kind,  to 
make  men  leaders  in  great  causes,  the  college 
is  founded.  Select  the  most  important,  the 
most  representative  journals  of  the  life  in 
America  today,  and  it  will  be  found  that  the 
leaders  and  makers  of  them  are  graduates  of  the 

[246] 


INDIVIDUAL  RESPONSIBILITY 

American  college.  When  Mr.  Godkin  was 
retiring  from  the  editorship  of  The  Nation 
after  a  service  of  thirty-three  years,  James 
Bryce  wrote  to  him,  saying: 

"  Still  do  I  regret  it  terribly,  for  there  is 
no  one  in  the  U.  S.  A.  that  one  has  heard  of 
who  can  do  the  tithe  of  what  you  have  done  for 
principles  of  good  government  and  purity  and 
for  sound  reason  as  against  demagogism." 

When  Wendell  Phillips  Garrison  was  retiring 
after  forty  years  of  service  on  the  same  journal, 
Henry  W.  Longfellow,  Lowell,  Goldwin  Smith, 
Professor  Gilman,  Phillips  Brooks,  and  others, 
wrote  to  him,  saying: 

"  To  have  directed  for  forty  years,  with  such 
zeal  and  taste  and  lofty  ideals,  a  journal  re- 
flecting the  finest  scholarship  and  the  soundest 
public  morals  of  America,  is  an  achievement 
without  parallel  in  our  literary  annals." 

Such  leaders  were  trained  in  the  college. 
The  list  of  names  of  your  own  elder  brothers 
who  hold  high  places  in  journalism  would  be 
a  noble  one. 

To  one  further  field  do  I  refer,  which  illus- 
trates the  function  of  training  men  unto  a 
sense  of  corporate  responsibility.  It  is  religion. 
Religion  represents  responsibility  for  most 
serious  communal  interests.     Religion   stands 

[247] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

for  the  incarnation  of  the  Divine  Being.  It 
represents  God  on  the  earth.  It  gives  inti- 
mations of  the  infinite,  the  eternal,  the  univer- 
sal. It  spells  the  over-soul.  It  stands  for 
that  spirit  in  man  which  difi"erentiates  him  both 
from  things  and  from  brutes.  Religion  takes 
on  the  divine  forms  of  truth,  of  duty,  of  wid- 
est, highest  relations.  It  calls  to  its  service 
prophets  who  proclaim  its  truths,  priests  who 
minister  at  its  altars,  scholars  who  read  and 
interpret  its  holy  books.  The  progress  of  pure 
religion  means  the  progress  of  the  community. 
The  regress  of  pure  religion  means  the  declining 
of  the  community.  The  college  gives  itself  to 
the  education  of  men  who  shall  be  prophets 
true,  priests  devout  and  devoted,  scholars 
wise.  It  realizes  that,  if  the  oracles  be  dumb, 
if  the  priesthood  be  corrupt,  if  the  altar-fires 
are  impure,  or  the  scripture  false,  the  whole 
community  suffers  in  the  degradation  of 
mind,  of  conscience,  of  conduct,  and  of  life. 
It  recognizes  that  if  it  can  have  a  share  in  the 
education  of  the  saints  and  prophets,  it  is 
giving  a  sky  to  the  life  of  the  community,  a 
sense  of  infinity  in  the  midst  of  its  minute 
finites,  and  a  God  to  a  world  living  the  lust  of 
the  flesh  and  of  the  eyes. 

To  these,  and  to  all  other  forms  of  the  com- 

[248] 


INDIVIDUAL  RESPONSIBILITY 

munal  life  and  interest,  such  as  government, 
the  professions,  the  fine  arts  of  literature,  of 
painting,  of  architecture,  of  music,  the  college 
gives  itself  as  it  feels  its  responsibility.  It 
feels  its  responsibility  in  the  training  of  men 
and  of  women. 

In  this  training  of  individuals  for  every 
department  and  field  the  college  offers  certain 
uniting  and  integrating  forces.  The  college 
seeks  to  give  to  men  and  women  of  all  callings 
and  forms  of  endeavor  at  least  three  condi- 
tions. First,  it  seeks  to  accumulate  resources 
in  each.  Civilization  is  measured  by  its 
treasure  of  results  achieved  and  saved.  Sav- 
agery does  not  accumulate.  It  spends  daily 
or  yearly  what  it  makes  daily  or  yearly.  The 
college  tries  to  train  students  unto  the  force  of 
accumulating  the  results  of  the  past.  It 
gathers  up  the  former  generations  for  the  pres- 
ent and  transmutes  those  results  unto  the 
future.  It  makes  this  collegian  a  citizen  of  all 
the  past  and  of  all  nations,  a  resident  of  every 
zone,  at  home  with  all  men  of  all  time.  It 
gives,  in  a  word,  resources. 

To  the  college  woman,  in  particular,  the  duty 
of  the  college  in  giving  resources  becomes  in 
these  times  specially  urgent.  For  it  grows  in- 
creasingly clear  that  the  public  service  of  wo- 

[249] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

men  is  to  be  more  and  more  needed  in  this 
old  world  of  ours.  The  granting  of  suffrage 
represents  a  field  of  this  service.  But  it  is  a 
token  also  of  the  opening  of  other  fields.  For 
entrance  into  such  fields  women  know  they  are 
to  be  abundantly  fitted.  Failure  cannot  for 
an  instant  be  thought  of.  Success  in  the  en- 
deavor is  to  be  won,  and  it  is  to  be  recognized 
that  success  can  be  won  only  through  the  pos- 
session of  proper  resources. 

Second,  the  college  seeks  to  create  a  sense 
of  the  unities  of  life  and  of  all  being.  It 
endeavors  to  show  the  penetrations  and  the  in- 
terpenetrations  which  belong  to  forces,  states, 
conditions,  causes,  and  results.  It  labors  to 
make  it  plain  that  nothing  is  alone,  that  all 
is  in  all  and  that  each  is  in  each,  that  all  is 
in  each  and  each  in  all.  It  aboHshes  the  doc- 
trine of  aloneness  and  aloofness.  It  stands 
for  the  social  and  the  communal. 

Third,  the  college  also  desires  to  show  that 
life  is  a  process  —  more  a  becoming  than  a 
become.  The  college  tries  to  conjugate  life 
rather  in  the  imperfect  than  the  perfect  tense, 
rather  in  the  future  than  in  the  past.  It  tries 
to  prove  that  aspiration  is  more  important  than 
achievement,  and  that  achievment  which  is 
not  the  parent  of  further  achievement  is  failure. 

[250] 


INDIVIDUAL  RESPONSIBILITY 

It  tries  to  prove  that  any  victory  which  does 
not  lead  to  further  advance  of  the  forces  of 
truth  and  of  righteousness  is  really  a  defeat. 
Its  heavens  show  the  morning  star,  and  its 
suns  are  ever  rising  toward  a  zenith  which  is 
never  reached. 

By  what  method  does  the  college  give  to 
its  students,  who  become  its  sons  and  daughters, 
this  tremendous  sense  of  co-operative  respon- 
sibility? 

In  answer  be  it  remembered  that  the  college 
accepts  these  students  as  boys  and  girls,  at  a 
beautiful  and  critical  time  in  their  normal 
development.  The  age  of  memory  is  beginning 
to  lose  its  keen  avariciousness.  The  age  of 
intellectual  imagination  dawns;  it  feels  the 
growth  of  wings.  The  age  of  reasoning  is 
taking  its  first  and  longer  steps.  It  is  an  age 
of  in-looking,  of  expressing,  of  out-looking,  of 
observing.  It  is  an  age  of  interpretation.  It 
is  a  time  when,  in  the  verse  of  Wordsworth, 
one  is  "  moving  about  in  worlds  not  realized." 
It  is  a  creative  age.  The  new  worlds  are 
being  formed,  and  of  each  of  them,  both  night 
and  day,  one  can  say,  as  in  the  first  of  Genesis, 
"  It  is  good."  It  is  of  tremendous  worth  that 
the  college  receives  the  girl  or  boy  as  a  youth. 
The  college  gateway  is  the  gateway  of  youth. 

[  251  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

When  the  college  has  received  this  student 
there  are  at  least  three  ways  which  the  college 
may  employ  in  developing  this  sense  of  com- 
munal responsibility.     One  way  is  the  way  of 
truth.     The  college  seeks  to  aid  this  mind  to 
know,  to  know  things,  processes,  causes,  re- 
sults in  time  and  space.     The  college  seeks  to 
help  one  to  interpret  all  phenomena  and  above 
all  to  see  phenomena  in  their  relations.     Seeing 
things  in  their  relations  is  truthful  truth.     See- 
ing things  out  of  their  relations  is  untruthful 
truth.     Among  such  fundamental  truths  is  the 
fact  that  all  men  and  all  movements  are  vitally 
associated.     No    man    liveth    to    himself:  no 
man    dieth    to    himself.     When    the    student 
comes  to  realize  that  his  individual  unity  is 
simplest,  and  that  the  unity  of  the  community 
is   of  unspeakably   more   importance,   he   has 
taken  the  first  step  in  the  understanding  of 
his  responsibility.     Such  realization  does  be- 
come his.     The  coming  of  the  sense  of  such  a 
responsibility    is    an    intellectual    new    birth. 
It  represents  wisdom.     The  knowing  the  truth 
is  knowledge.     The  knowing  truth  truthfully 
is  wisdom.     Knowledge  is  the  steel  and  timber 
assembled  for  the  building  of  the  ship.     Wis- 
dom is  the  putting  of  part  to  part  and  the  mak- 
ing of  this  greyhound  of  the  ocean.     Knowledge 

[252] 


INDIVIDUAL  RESPONSIBILITY 

is  stone  in  the  quarry.  Wisdom  is  the  laying 
of  block  upon  block  into  the  house  of  character, 
of  beauty,  of  rest  and  service.  Knowledge  is 
the  wheat  in  the  granary,  rich  and  golden. 
Wisdom  is  the  grinding  of  the  wheat  into  flour 
for  the  feeding  of  the  multitude.  Knowledge 
is  the  theory  of  civil  and  political  service. 
Wisdom  is  taking  that  theory  and  using  it  for 
government,  honest,  helpful,  democratic,  and 
effective. 

But  seeing  truth  truthfully  is  only  the  first 
step.  The  student  is  to  come  to  recognize 
the  oughtness  of  this  communal  responsibility 
and  relationship.  He  is  to  appreciate  the  duty 
which  moves  him  in  relation  to  his  fellows. 
The  work  which  the  college  may  do  in  this 
condition  is  a  difficult  one.  For  it  is  said  that 
the  college  is  an  intellectual  agency.  How 
can  the  college  cause  a  student  to  translate  a 
revelation  into  a  dedication?  The  answer  is 
still  a  difficult  one  and  also  direct.  It  is  by 
thinking,  thinking,  thinking,  on  the  needs  of 
the  world  which  surrounds  him  and  of  which 
he  is  an  integral  part.  No  one  can  reflect  on 
the  wants  and  the  woes  of  today,  soberly  and 
continuously,  without  a  tremendous  will  that 
he  ought  and  that  he  will  do  all  he  can  to  fill 
those  wants,  to  remove  those  woes,  to  ennoble 

[253] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

all  conditions.  In  a  stone  of  one  of  the  older 
buildings  at  the  English  Harrow  are  cut  these 
words,  **  Near  this  spot  as  a  young  boy  stood 
Anthony  Ashley  Cooper,  in  the  year  1814,  and 
saw  for  the  first  time  a  pauper  funeral."  He 
was  so  moved  thereby  that  he  determined  to 
give  his  life  unto  the  helping  of  the  suffering 
poor  of  England.  In  the  year  1885,  the  same 
boy  become  a  man,  and  known  as  the  Seventh 
Earl  of  Shaftesbury,  died  at  the  age  of  eighty- 
four,  died  after  a  life  spent  in  carrying  out  the 
boyhood  pledge,  and  died  saying,  "  Must  I  die 
and  leave  all  this  suffering  in  the  world?  " 
Every  school  and  every  college  train  unto  this 
sense  of  responsibility  by  seeing  and  re- 
flecting. 

This  same  condition  of  thinking  also  gives 
a  further  aid.  It  both  quickens  the  feelings 
and  moves  the  will.  "  While  I  was  musing, 
the  fire  burned,  then  spake  I."  It  is  for  such 
thinking  and  its  influence  on  both  the  heart  and 
the  will  that  I  plead.  Get  knowledge,  get 
truth,  get  fact,  get  information,  get  all.  But 
with  all  your  getting,  get  understanding. 
With  all  your  getting,  get  reflection,  get 
meditation,  get  consideration,  get  interpre- 
tation, get  understanding  of  the  things  great 
and  greatest,  of  all  things  encyclopaedic,  get 

[254] 


INDIVIDUAL  RESPONSIBILITY 

it  as  a  habit,  get  it  as  a  mood.  Good  is  it  in 
itself  and  good  also  is  it  as  means  of  moving 
the  heart,  of  quickening  the  conscience,  of  in- 
fluencing the  will,  of  forming  the  character, 
wholesome,  holiest,  best.  Thus  the  college 
may  be  true  to  its  intellectual  mission  and  also 
be  true  to  its  duty,  too,  in  educating  men  and 
women  who  are  bound  by  a  mighty  sense  of 
responsibility  to  and  for  the  whole  com- 
munity. 

Such  a  life  of  responsibility  is  worth  living, 
either  as  a  memory,  as  a  hope,  or  as  a  present 
duty.  No  other  life  is  so  well  worth  living. 
It  is  a  life  which  the  new  master  of  Eton  has 
put  into  verse  as  an  elegy  of  one  of  the  thou- 
sands of  schoolmen  who  have  fallen  in  the 
great  war.  This  master  writes  of  his  boy  in 
almost  dialect  lines: 

"To  have  laughed  and  talked, —  wise,  witty,  fantastic, 

feckless,  — 

To  have  mocked  at  rules  and  rulers  and  learnt  to  obey, 

To  have  led  your  men  with  a  daring  adored  and  reckless, 

To  have  struck  your  blow  for  Freedom,  the  old  straight 

way: 

"To  have  hated  the  world  and  lived  among  those  who 
love  it. 
To  have  thought  great  thoughts,  and  lived  till  you 
knew  them  true, 

[2SS] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

To  have  loved  men  more  than  yourself  and  have  died  to 
prove  it,  — 
Yes,  Charles,  this  is  to  have  lived:  was  there  more  to 
do?" 


To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Class: 

You  who  here  stand  together  realize  this 
sense  of  responsibility  of  the  individual  for  the 
community  more  keenly,  more  deeply,  than 
have  the  members  of  any  other  class  who  have 
stood  together,  for  many  a  Commencement. 
Memorial  halls,  memorial  alcoves  in  librarieSj 
memorial  volumes,  are  testimony  of  that  sense 
felt  in  the  Civil  War.  Women's  colleges  in 
Oxford  and  Cambridge  converted  into  hos- 
pitals, with  women  students  as  nurses,  the 
nurse's  gown  supplanting  the  academic  robe, 
the  lonely  grounds  of  Magdalen  and  Oriel, 
and  the  lonely  and  lovely  gardens  of  New 
College,  the  waters  of  the  Cam  unflecked 
by  oar,  are  evidences  of  the  sense  of  responsi- 
bility for  a  free  world  felt  by  the  men  and  women 
students  of  the  older  England.  A  like,  though 
not  the  same,  condition  is  yours.  You  do 
know  and  you  do  feel  the  responsibility  which 
falls  on  you.  In  what  special  field  you  may 
exercise  this  responsibility,  neither  you  nor 
I  at  this  moment  know.     Neither  do  we  seri- 

[256] 


INDIVIDUAL  RESPONSIBILITY 

ously  care.  But  we  do  know  and  care  that 
wherever  you  shall  be,  whatever  path  you 
may  walk,  under  whatever  sun  you  may  daily 
labor,  under  whatever  star  you  may  pitch 
your  nightly  tent,  you  will  recognize  yourself 
as  a  trustee  for  the  whole  community.  Trea- 
sure your  powers  as  a  resource  for  the  race  and 
the  races,  holding  the  cup  of  the  water  of  your 
life  as  strength  and  refreshment  for  all.  Your 
mind  is  a  mind  for  all:  your  will  is  a  good  will 
for  all,  your  heart  is  a  heart  for  all.  To  such  a 
quest  I  need  not  call  you.  To  such  a  quest 
your  whole  life  calls  you  and  will  ever  call.  Of 
your  obedience  to  such  summons  I  am  con- 
fident. I  pray,  now  and  ever,  for  full  strength 
for  you  each  in  your  obedience. 


[257 


XV 

EFFECTS  OF  THE  WAR  ON 
COLLEGE  WOMEN 


Chapter  XV 

EFFECTS  OF  THE  WAR  ON  COLLEGE 
WOMEN 

[1918] 

"  Now  there  stood  by  the  cross  of  Jesus  his  mother,  and 
his  mother's  sister,  Mary  the  wife  of  Cleophas,  and  Mary 
Magdalene." — John  xix  :  25. 

"  Mary  Magdalene  came  and  told  the  disciples  that  she 
had  seen  the  Lord,  and  that  he  had  spoken  these  things 
unto  her." — John  xx  :  18. 

IN  these  days  every  soul  is  seeing  visions. 
In  these  nights  every  soul  is  dreaming 
dreams.  No  soul  is  more  keen  in  seeing 
visions  or  more  alert  in  dreaming  dreams  than 
the  soul  of  the  college  woman.  Her  spirit 
goes  out  into  all  this  war-torn  earth,  and  all 
the  war-torn  earth  beats  back  upon,  and  into, 
her  responsive  spirit. 

What,  therefore,  are  the  effects  of  this  war 
upon  her?  That  is  the  question  which  I  shall 
try  to  answer. 

First.  One  effect  is  the  giving  of  an  in- 
creased sense  of  the  unity  of  all  human  life. 
Books  are  written  and  arguments  are  offered 
upon  the  differences  that  divide  men.     The 

[261] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

white  race,  the  black,  the  yellow,  the  brown,  are 
distinctions  which  are  made  emphatic.  There 
is  said  to  be  a  brain  Caucasian,  a  brain  Mon- 
golian, and  a  brain  African.  The  civilization 
of  the  orient  and  the  civilization  of  the  Occident 
are  interpreted  as  distinct  and  different  con- 
ditions and  forces.     For 

^    "  East  is  east,  and  west  is  west, 
And  ne'er  the  twain  shall  meet." 

Yet  in  these  years,  we  are  learning  that,  if 
there  are  races,  there  is  also,  and  more,  one 
race,  —  the  human,  and  that  if  there  are  several 
social  classes,  there  is  also,  and  more,  one  social 
class, —  the  human.  We  are  discovering  that, 
if  "east  is  east,  and  west  is  west,"  if  one  go 
far  enough  east,  he  will  find  himself  in  the 
west,  and  also  that  the  farther  west  one  travels, 
the  nearer  he  approaches  the  east.  Men  are, 
in  fact,  united  —  united  by  the  pursuit  of  one 
ideal,  the  ideal  of  democracy.  Men  are 
united  by  one  ideal  —  humanity  itself  as  it 
struggles  against  the  fell  purposes  of  narrow 
autocracy.  The  horrors  indeed  have  joined  all 
peoples  together,  except  those  peoples  who  com- 
mit the  horrors  or  who  warm  themselves  by  the 
fire  of  selfish  ambition  while  the  horrors  are 
being    committed.     Dangers    unite.     Sinking 

[262] 


THE  WAR  AND  COLLEGE  WOMEN 

steamers  make  all  passengers  one.  Lifeboats 
do  not  stand  for  civic  discriminations.  The 
recognition  of  a  common  origin  unites:  "God 
hath  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men." 
A  common  atmosphere  unites:  we  are  not 
"  strangers  and  foreigners,  but  fellow-citizens." 
A  common  battle  and  one  campaign  unite:  we 
all  march  to  the  strains  of  the  Battle  Hymn 
of  the  Republic  of  man.  A  common  agony 
and  loss  unite.  The  door  posts  of  thousands 
of  homes,  cottage  and  palace,  bear,  or  are  to 
bear,  the  finger-prints  of  blood.  As  a  French 
nurse  said  to  a  friend  of  mine,  speaking  of  the 
German  bombing  of  hospitals,  "  All  wounded 
men  are  brothers!"  A  common  destiny 
unites:  the  government  of  and  for  and  by  the 
people  is  to  be  saved  and  perpetuated.  "  There 
is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,  there  is  neither  bond 
nor  free,  there  is  neither  male  nor  female:  for 
ye  are  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus." 

In  the  year  1871,  Bismarck,  maddened  by 
the  French  resistance,  said,  "  We  shall  shoot, 
hang,  and  burn.  After  that  has  happened  a 
few  times,  the  inhabitants  will  finally  come 
to  their  senses."  Against  such  a  policy,  all 
men  are  joined.  Every  German  pastor  takes 
this  solemn  oath:  "  I  will  be  submissive, 
faithful,  and  obedient  to  his  Royal  Majesty, — 

[263] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

and  his  lawful  successors  in  the  government, 
—  as  my  most  gracious  King  and  sovereign; 
promote  his  welfare  according  to  my  ability; 
prevent  injury  and  detriment  to  him;  and 
particularly  endeavor  carefully  to  cultivate  in 
the  minds  of  the  people  under  my  care  a  sense 
of  reverence  and  fidelity  toward  the  King, 
love  for  the  Fatherland,  obedience  to  the  laws, 
and  all  those  virtues  which  in  a  Christian  denote 
a  good  citizen;  and  I  will  not  suffer  any  man 
to  teach  or  act  in  a  contrary  spirit.  In  par- 
ticular, I  vow  that  I  will  not  support  any 
society  or  association,  either  at  home  or 
abroad,  which  might  endanger  the  public 
security,  and  will  inform  His  Majesty  of  any 
proposals  made,  either  in  my  diocese  or  else- 
where, which  might  prove  injurious  to  the 
state.  I  will  preach  the  word  as  His  Gracious 
Majesty  dictates."  Against  such  autocracy 
and  such  submissiveness,  all  people  are  united. 
Such  differences  give  to  the  independent, 
self-respecting  mind  and  will  of  the  college 
woman,  by  sheer  contrast,  a  sense  of  the  unity 
of  all  worthy  peoples.  Such  a  sense  of  unity 
belongs  especially  to  the  college  women  of  this 
America  of  ours  which  has,  for  decades,  been  a 
leader  and  guide  in  the  higher  education  of 
women. 

[264] 


THE  WAR  AND  COLLEGE  WOMEN 

Second.  The  war  also  creates  a  sense  of 
directness  in  thinking  and  in  interpretation. 
War  wipes  out  the  superfluous.  On  battle 
fields  baggage  trains  are  few  and  short,  muni- 
tion trains  many,  long,  heavy.  Thinking  in 
war  time  is  rather  tangential  than  circular. 
War  writes  commands.  It  gives  orders.  It 
does  not  ofi"er  intimations  or  suggestions.  To 
see  clearly,  to  think  straight,  is  the  method. 
Diplomacy  palavers  and  parleys,  and  bar- 
gains, and  delays,  and  lingers:  —  war  strikes 
and  it  strikes  hard.  The  belligerent  mood 
and  method  affect  the  college  mind.  Mental 
discursiveness  is  narrowed,  intellectual  luxu- 
riousness  aboHshed.  The  method  of  interpre- 
tation becomes  simpler.  Contrast  the  style  of 
Henry  James  and  the  style  of  a  good  war 
correspondent.  Involutions  and  evolutions, 
nouns  which  have  no  verbs,  and  verbs  without 
nouns,  participles  which  have  no  relatives, 
thrown  into  a  formless  linguistic  ether,  clauses 
flung  about  like  stars  in  some  endless  milky 
way,  thoughts  which  are  feelings,  and  feelings 
which  darken  thoughts,  —  contrast  such  a 
style  with  the  direct  progressiveness  and  orderly 
interpretativeness  of  the  writing  of  a  good 
correspondent  from  the  battle  front.  Such  is 
the  contrast  between  the  thinking  of  the  older 

[  265  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

time  of  academic  analysis  and  of  this  day,  of 
the  Red  Cross  work,  the  Liberty  Loan,  and 
of  War  Savings  Stamps, 

Third.  It  also  seems  to  me  that  a  further 
effect  of  the  war  on  the  college  woman  is  to 
give  strength  to  her  right  of  individual  choice 
in  essential  concerns  and  to  enlarge  the  field  in 
which  her  right  may  properly  be  exercised. 
One  of  the  most  impressive  and  significant  re- 
marks of  any  social  philosopher  of  modern 
times  lies  in  the  simple  sentence  of  Sir  Henry 
Sumner  Maine  in  which  he  says  that  "  The 
movement  of  the  progressive  societies  has  hith- 
erto been  a  movement  from  status  to  contract." 
It  is  a  succinct  interpretation  of  the  method  of 
content  of  social  progress.  It  means  the  casting 
off  of  a  condition  fixed  by  birth  or  by  environ- 
ment and  the  putting  in  its  place  a  condition 
which  is  under  one's  own  control.  It  represents 
a  passing  from  a  determination  made  by  others 
to  a  determination  made  by  oneself.  Of 
course  these  last  decades  form  the  period  of 
this  greatest  change.  But  the  war  has  given 
special  speed  to  the  change.  The  war  has 
called  upon  the  individual  to  do  his  own  best 
and  in  his  own  best  way.  It  has  mobilized  all 
forces,  personal  as  well  as  communal.  If  it 
has  increased  duties,  as  it  has,  it  has  also  multi- 

[266] 


THE  WAR  AND  COLLEGE  WOMEN 

plied  rights.  The  calls  to  service  are  no  longer 
given  alone  at  the  teacher's  desk,  or  at  the 
marriage  altar.  They  are  also  given  by 
business,  by  social  service,  by  professional  and 
other  vocations.  The  demand  for  human 
power  without  regard  to  sex  has  created  for 
college  women  the  right  of  choice.  The  elec- 
tive system  of  studies  has  prepared  the  way 
to  the  elective  system  of  works.  Such  a 
change  has  tremendous  meanings  for  you  and 
meanings  equally  tremendous  for  the  effective- 
ness of  all  human  service. 

Fourth.  Yet  a  more  important  effect  of  the 
war  on  college  women  is  what  I  shall  call  an 
increased  sense  of  trusteeship.  For  whom  is 
the  college  woman  a  trustee?  For  humanity. 
What  does  the  college  woman  hold  in  trust.? 
The  future  of  the  race.  What  does  she  possess 
that  makes  her  worthy  of  being  a  trustee? 
She  has  manner,  or  manners,  which  make  her 
at  home  in  any  society.  Her  knowledge  is  not 
en  masse^  but  is  articulate  and  orderly.  Her 
disciplined  thinking,  though  clear  and  close,  is 
yet  rich  without  ornateness;  logical  in  argu^ 
ment,  persuasive  in  reasoning,  yet  apt  in  illus- 
tration. Her  heart  tender  without  gushing- 
ness,  aspiring  without  visionariness,  broad  in 
sympathy    without    being    thin    or    artificial, 

.     [267] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

swift  without  hurry,  delicate  without  over- 
refinement,  her  love  of  the  beautiful  inspiring 
without  being  fantastic,  her  convictions  keen 
to  detect  the  right  and  the  wrong,  yet  free  from 
casuistry,  rejoicing  in  the  right  seen  and 
chosen,  persistent  without  stubbornness,  and 
firm  without  obstinacy,  gracious  without 
obsequiousness,  generous  and  yet  self-respectful 
—  she  has,  in  a  word,  her  whole  strong,  dis- 
ciplined womanhood  to  make  her  the  best 
trustee  for  humanity.  She  "  suffereth  long 
and  is  kind."  She  "  envieth  not";  she 
"  vaunteth  not "  herself,  "  is  not  pufi'ed  up  "; 
"  doth  not  behave  "  herself  "  unseemly,  seeketh 
not  her  own,  is  not  easily  provoked,  thinketh 
no  evil,  rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity,  but  rejoiceth 
in  the  truth;  beareth  all  things,  believeth  all 
things,  hopeth  all  things,  undureth  all  things." 
She  "  never  faileth."  These  are  some  of  the 
things  which  make  the  college  woman  worthy 
of  being  a  trustee  for  the  future  of  the  race. 
Does  she  know  the  elements  of  her  trustee- 
ship? Does  she  feel  the  significance  of  this 
trusteeship?  Does  she  realize  the  impres- 
siveness  of  it?  Thousands  of  students,  tens 
of  thousands  of  graduates,  give  answer  with 
bowed  heads  and  with  trembling,  speech- 
less lips. 

[268] 


THE  WAR  AND  COLLEGE  WOMEN 

Fifth.  Yet  another  result  of  the  war  on  the 
soul  of  the  college  woman  of  America  is  found 
in  an  enriched  appreciation  of  religion.  It  is 
not  a  formal  religion  which  is  the  more  deeply 
respected  in  this  crisis.  It  is  not  a  faith  spelled 
in  the  alphabet  of  ecclesiastical  denominational- 
ism,  or  which  is  stated  in  the  articles  of  the 
creeds.  It  is  rather  a  religion  as  simple  as  it  is 
real.  It  is  a  religion  which  has  for  its  chief  and 
central  constructive  truth,  the  idea  of  God. 
The  idea  of  God  is  the  chief  constructive  truth 
in  the  intellectual  interpretation  of  faith.  The 
idea  of  God  is  the  chief  idea  found  in  the 
Hebrew  system,  whether  it  is  expressed  in 
the  Ten  Commandments  or  in  the  requirements 
of  Micah's  sententious  imperative  of  doing  jus- 
tice, loving  mercy,  and  walking  humbly.  It  is 
also  the  constructive  motive  in  the  Beatitudes 
of  Christ,  and  the  first  and  controlling  force  in 
His  commandment  of  loving  God  supremely. 
The  Christian  faith  is  a  simple  faith  in  its  ele- 
ments, as  it  is  a  real  faith  in  its  power  over  the 
human  character.  The  war  has  abolished  the 
accidents  and  incidents  of  the  thinking  of 
the  college  student  about  the  divine  and  the 
eternal  and  has  brought  him  face  to  face  with 
the  central,  constructive,  substantial,  facts. 
I  do  not  believe  it  is  true  that  in  religion,  as 

[269] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

Tennyson  once  said,  one  must  choose  between 
bigotry  or  flabbiness.  One  can  and  does 
believe  strongly  in  the  fundamentals.  Face  to 
face  with  death,  he  thinks  of  the  eternal. 
Alone,  separated  from  ordinary  associates  and 
associations,  he  is  touched  by  the  presence  of 
the  great  Companion. 

How  unHke  such  a  conception  of  religion  is 
that  which  is  found  in  certain  of  the  older 
systems  of  theology  which  are  designed  to  in- 
terpret religion.  I  turn,  for  instance,  to 
Dwight's  Theology,  bound  up  in  five  volumes, 
and  I  at  once  read  of  the  doctrines  regarding 
God,  —  the  existence  of  God,  the  unity  of 
God,  the  attributes  of  God,  the  decrees  of  God, 
the  sovereignty  of  God,  the  works  of  God  as 
seen  in  his  creation  and  in  His  providence,  and 
the  providence  of  God  as  seen  in  the  depravity 
of  man,  its  universality,  its  degree,  its  pre- 
vention; and  all  this  set  forth  in  some  thirty- 
four  sermons,  and  the  thirty-four  sermons 
being  less  than  one-quarter  of  the  one  hundred 
and  seventy-three  sermons  which  represent  the 
whole  system.  These  sermons  were  first 
preached  to  college  students.  The  war  has 
done  away  with  such  elaborate  expositions  and 
interpretations  of  religion. 
This  emphasis  upon  simplicity  seems  to  have 

[270] 


THE  WAR  AND  COLLEGE  WOMEN 

a  certain  application  to  what  may  be  called  a 
belief  in  the  eternal  and  beneficent  purpose  of 
God    in    human    affairs.     The   undergraduate 
mind,  like  every  other  mind,  is  now  bewildered. 
What  does  it  behold?     In  a  universe  of  orderli- 
ness, of  law,  it  sees  disorder  and  lawlessness. 
In  a  universe  designed  apparently  for  love  and 
for   beneficence,    it   beholds    hatred    and   evil 
working.     In  a  universe  planned  for  material 
growth  and  development,  it  beholds  premature 
loss   and  destruction.     In  a  universe  ordained 
to  create  happiness  and  satisfaction,  it  finds 
misery,   pain,   suffering,  woe.     In   a  universe 
in  which   righteous  omnipotence  is   supposed 
to  rule,  it  sees  abominable  evil  rampant,  and 
often  triumphant.     In  such  a  state  the  mind 
of  the  student  is  bewildered,  as  his  heart  is 
stirred     and     his     will     partially     atrophied. 
And  yet,  as  he  reflects  on    these    contradict 
tions,   I  believe  he   comes  somewhat  to  per- 
ceive and  to  believe  in  the  purpose  of  God, 
righteous  and  eternal,  hidden  in  these  things. 
If  there  be  a  God  at  all  —  and  the  student 
cannot  give  up  this  assurance  — ■  there  must  be 
something  good  to  come  out  of  this  evil.     He 
hears  Tennyson's  "  Two  Voices,'*  and  Whit- 
tier's  "  My  Soul  and  I,"  and  he  must  believe 
that,  if  the  universe  be  not  devilish  in  origin 

[271] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

and  demoniac  in  agency  and  hellish  in  destiny, 
beneath  these  present  evils  there  must  be  the 
soul  of  righteousness  and  of  goodness. 

The  religion  which  is  worthy  of  the  college 
woman  is  therefore  broad  in  its  outlines.  It 
represents  the  common  denominator  of  at 
least  five  historic  faiths  which  are  chiefly 
affected  in  this  crisis,  the  Protestant,  the 
Jewish,  the  Roman  Catholic,  the  Greek 
Catholic,  and  the  Nestorian.  But  the  com- 
mon denominator  is  a  belief  in  one  God, 
God  the  Father,  Maker  of  heaven  and 
earth. 

Sixth.  A  still  further  result  of  the  war  upon 
the  college  woman,  and  the  last  which  I  shall 
name,  lies  in  the  intensifying  of  moral  passion. 
Moral  passion  is  moral  sentiment  sharpened  to 
a  cutting  edge.  It  is  feeling  devoted  to 
ethical  ends.  It  is  ambition  raised  to  the 
power  of  highest  beneficence.  It  is  sentiment 
touched  with  a  sense  of  righteousness,  quick- 
ened by  a  sense  of  wrong  suffered,  and  moving 
toward  results  lying  in  the  realm  of  character. 
It  is  often  the  result  of  moral  purity  incarnated, 
and  it  quite  as  often  aims  toward  banishing 
the  moral  outcast  and  criminal.  The  un- 
speakable things  which  have  been  done  in  this 
war,  which  I  shall  not  harrow  you  by  repeating, 

[272] 


THE  WAR  AND  COLLEGE  WOMEN 

make  an  equally  unspeakable  appeal  to  the 
heart  of  the  college  woman.  She  appreciates 
the  enormity  of  these  horrors.  She  under- 
stands —  although  no  one  can  understand 
fully  —  how  far  these  horrors  transcend  and 
transgress  all  the  laws  of  war  and  of  moral 
codes.  She  feels  their  terribleness,  for  she 
knows  the  hearts  of  her  sisters  who  suffer  in 
degradation.  Her  passion  she  declines  to  tear 
and  to  relieve  its  depths  in  mad  ravings.  She 
prefers  rather  to  re-affirm  the  categorical  im- 
perative of  Immanuel  Kant,  and  she  feels  the 
degradation  of  a  nation  which  has  forgotten 
him,  or  which,  remembering  him,  can  still 
believe  that  his  "  I  ought "  leads  to  Belgian, 
Polish,  Serbian,  and  Roumanian  atrocities. 
She  has  God  as  moderator  in  her  worthy  hates. 
But  she  feels  the  moral  passion  to  the  depths  of 
her  soul,  and  she  would  wipe  from  the  world 
such  horrors  with  the  full  floodtide  of  penitence 
and  righteousness.  Her  thoughts  and  her 
feelings  of  horror  for  the  past  and  of  hope  for 
the  future  are  well  expressed  in  that  glorious 
sonnet  of  Rupert  Brooke: 

"  Blow  out,  you  bugles,  over  the  rich  Dead ! 

There's  none  of  these  so  lonely  and  poor  of  old. 
But,  dying,  has  made  us  rarer  gifts  than  gold. 
These  laid  the  world  away;  poured  out  the  red, 

I  273  ] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

Sweet  wine  of  youth;  gave  up  the  years  to  be 
Of  work  and  joy,  and  that  unhoped  serene, 
That  men  call  age;  and  those  who  would  have  been, 

Their  sons,  they  gave,  their  immortality. 

"  Blow,  bugles,  blow!   They  brought  us,  for  our  dearth. 
Holiness,  lacked  so  long,  and  Love,  and  Pain. 

Honour  has  come  back,  as  a  king,  to  earth, 
And  paid  his  subjects  with  a  royal  wage; 

And  Nobleness  walks  in  our  ways  again; 
And  we  have  come  into  our  heritage," 

These  great  results  of  the  eflFects  of  the  war 
on  college  women  —  an  increased  sense  of  the 
unity  of  all  human  life,  a  sense  of  directness 
in  thinking  and  in  interpretation,  a  sense  of 
strength  in  the  right  of  individual  choice  in 
essential  concerns  and  an  enlargement  of  the 
field  in  which  this  right  may  be  exercised,  an 
increased  sense  of  trusteeship,  an  enriched 
appreciation  of  religion,  and  an  intenser 
moral  passion —  are  in  these  times  achieved  in 
a  new  world  in  which  two  great  political  and 
social  movements  are  also  going  forward  toward 
a  worthy  conclusion.  I  refer  first  to  the  move- 
ment for  prohibition.  Intemperance  is  one 
of  the  direst  of  all  enemies  of  the  human  race. 
It  breaks  the  laws  of  economics:  it  is  waste.  It 
breaks  the  law  of  hygiene:  it  is  destructive 
of  fibre.     It   breaks   the   laws   of  morah;  it 

[274] 


THE  WAR  AND  COLLEGE  WOMEN 

whets  the  appetite  to  sin.  It  breaks  the  laws 
of  the  State:  it  is  the  direct,  or  indirect,  cause 
of  four-fifths  of  all  crimes.  It  hurts  the  home  of 
which  woman  is  the  heart.  Intemperance 
will  not  be  wholly  cast  out  by  statute,  but 
some  of  its  worst  results  will  be  wiped  out. 
Women  will  be  the  chief  beneficiary  of  this 
tremendous  social  betterment.  A  second 
movement  refers  to  the  giving  of  the  vote  to 
women.  This  cause  has  been  progressing 
while  this  war  has  been  waging.  In  England, 
—  that  most  conservative  nation,  —  the  grant 
has  been  made  in  no  small  part  as  the  result  of, 
or  as  the  condition  of,  the  great  conduct  of 
women  in  the  war.  This  grant  is  sure  to  come 
in  every  American  commonwealth.  The  pro- 
hibition movement  and  the  suffrage  movement 
are  at  once  cause  and  result.  The  prohibition 
of  the  liquor  traffic  has  given  clearer  vision  for 
seeing,  and  stronger  will  for  doing,  civic  duty, 
and  the  clearer  vision  and  the  stronger  will 
have  given  ample  power  for  wiping  out  the 
base  traffic  in  intoxicants. 

It  is  not  a  little  significant  that  while  the 
soul  of  the  college  women  is  touched  by  the 
great  results  to  which  I  have  alluded,  these 
two  fundamental  social  and  civil  enlargements 
have  been  going  forward. 

[275] 


THE  COLLEGE  GATEWAY 

To  the  Members  of  the  Graduating  Class: 

My  sermon  is  done.  The  Marys  of  our 
texts  still  stand  in  the  shadow  of  the  cross. 
Women  are  still  standing  in  millions  of  homes 
and  are  thinking  of  their  beloved,  or  kneeling 
in  prayer  for  the  preservation  of  their  husbands 
and  sons,  and  brothers,  or  for  the  comfort  of 
their  own  broken  hearts.  But  the  Marys 
soon  went  forth  from  the  shadow  of  the  cross 
and  presently  saw  the  Master  risen  from  his 
broken  tomb.  American  and  other  homes  are 
in  the  times  yet  to  be  to  find  other  revelations. 
Out  of  this  college  you  go.  Your  four  years 
here  spent  have  been  the  four  years  of  the  war. 
Almost  unconsciously  to  yourselves,  the  war 
has  wrought  upon  you.  The  great  results, 
which  I  have  briefly  interpreted,  have  been 
reenforced  by  the  college  days.  These  results 
your  life,  I  hope,  will  also  confirm.  The 
effect  of  the  past  four  years,  I  pray,  may  be  the 
promise  of  like  fruitage  in  the  next  four  and 
forty  years.  May  life  increase  to  you  its 
higher  unities.  May  your  thinking  be  direct 
without  being  narrow,  and  simple  without 
being  bare.  May  you  become  yet  more  and 
more  worthy  to  cultivate  the  enlarged  field  of 
your  own  great  choices.  May  you  ever  be 
possessed  by  a  keen  sense  of  rich  trusteeship 

[276] 


THE  WAR  AND  COLLEGE  WOMEN 

for  the  world.  May  your  religion  become 
broader,  deeper,  more  real,  more  vital;  and 
may  the  moral  passion  for  the  best  be  your 
daily  heritage  and  your  hourly  strength,  at 
once  your  inspiration  and  your  reward.  I 
welcome  you  to  a  world  in  a  year  which  needs 
you,  your  ablest,  your  best,  as  no  former 
year  has  ever  needed  you.  I  summon  you  to 
glorious  tasks,  to  the  entrance  into  richest 
privileges.  I  hear  your  answer  to  the  sum- 
mons, "  Here  am  L     Send  me." 


[277] 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETTURN 
THIS  BOOK  t>N  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  50  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $t.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


^0^    7    1935 


Os 


T  A    UU  /  I O 


^snu2'o 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


